


Glass House

by DaniStormborn



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, The Dark Knight Rises
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Bane if you squint, Barsad is also really really tempting, But that depends on reader, Could not decide between Bane and Barsad before eventually settling, Cunnilingus, Dark Bane, F/M, John Blake for the win, John Blake is the cutest, Like . . . damn, Passion, Slow Burn, So yeah, Stockholm Syndrome, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniStormborn/pseuds/DaniStormborn
Summary: Natalie Simmons' whole life changed in the blink of an eye. It's funny how that happens, isn't it? One moment, you're living the life of your dreams and the next, you aren't. It's just that simple. Your life is just that flimsy. Especially when it involves a man calling himself Bane.___________________________“Yours? Excuse me, Bane, but I am no one’s but myself! I am owned by no man and I’ll be damned if I start with you!”“Then what is love, little one?” Bane spoke up. “What is love, if not being unconsciously controlled by someone else? An emotion that forces you to put another’s well-being in front of your own. What do you call that, if not being owned by someone else?”She slowly turned around to face him. “You, Bane, have one fucked up view of love.”He shook his head. “No, I have a very logical view of love. And what happens when that love breaks? When it is there no more? What do you do then? You spend however many months that it takes for you to get over them, in a depression because you no longer have them. What is that, if not another, subtler form of control?”
Relationships: Barsad (Dark Knight Rises)/Original Female Character(s), John Blake/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So the inception of this story is a funny one. It initially started on Fanfiction.net because I watched the movie (of course), developed this huge thing for Bane (Um, hello! Tom Hardy?!!?) and decided to write something. I had every intention of making it a love triangle between Blake x my OC x Bane, but what do you know? As I'm writing, Barsad somehow sneakily maneuvers his way in there, so all of a sudden, I have a love rectangle instead of a triangle. Obviously, that doesn't work. It skirts entirely too close to Mary-Sue territory for my liking. I have no idea what to do and the whole premise falls dead.
> 
> Until quite recently, when I stumbled upon an "actually" good plot to this story! So I kick Bane out of the love quadrilateral (sorry Tom!), relegate him to "unrequited" or "if-you-squint" territory, and make it a Blake x My OC x Barsad story. Overall, I'm very happy with it, I'm excited on where this fic will take us, and as always, please, read, enjoy, and hit that review button if you are so inclined. Warnings, if applicable, will be listed before every chapter. 
> 
> Love you all bunches!
> 
> \-- DaniStormborn
> 
> Warnings:   
> Explicit Sexual Content (why else would you be here? lol)

* * *

“ _John_! Hurry _up_ – the game's almost on!”

The voice that answered her was one of exasperation. “One minute, Nat! I’m moving as fast as I can!”

Natalie Simmons grinned. She sat up with a giant bowl of popcorn cradled in her lap as her boyfriend all but ran into the living room. He had plastered a grin on his face. He jumped over the back of the couch like a hurdler. Natalie squeaked. She hugged the bowl to her stomach as the force of him hitting the couch launched her a few good inches into the air. She landed and gave him a look, one he continued to grin at.

He handed her a beer. His tone was cheerful. “See, I’m here! Just in time, too, it looks like.” He spoke. She narrowed her eyes before taking the brown bottle from him. The both of them popped the tops off as he opened his legs. He pulled her back against him as he sunk back against the arm of the leather couch. She went with him of her own free will. She popped a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth as her back settled comfortably against his front. His beer appeared on her thigh while the other grabbed at the popcorn cradled on her lap.

Exciting things had been happening in the small household all day. After all, it was only one of _the_ biggest days in the city. The day when all Gotham City would see if their home football team, the Gotham City Rogues, would go to the Super Bowl. Or if the day would curse them to languish another year without football fame. It was huge, because, for once, Gotham seemed to have a great team. They also seemed to have a better coach than the disappointing previous season, as well. For Natalie Simmons and her boyfriend, Officer John Blake of the GCPD, it was definitely an exciting day. They were both _huge_ football fans!

“Remember: whoever’s team wins gets oral tonight!” He grinned with a twinkle in his eye as he took a swig of his beer. Natalie shot him another look mid-chew. With a look of amusement in his eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand and quickly finished chewing. She then swallowed and then replied.

“Are you _serious_ \--?”

He shot her a challenging look and wiggled his eyebrows. “Completely! Better hope your team wins, cupcake!”

“But that’s not fair, Blake! We’re both rooting for the Rogues!” She spoke up, voice filled with indignation. Blake’s grin turned down into a smile as he leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Well then, let’s hope _our_ team wins!” He replied, his voice low and husky. Natalie couldn’t help but allow a grin of her own to spread across her face. She snuggled deeper against her man, popcorn in the crook of her elbow and her beer bottle in her other hand. They watched in silence through the pre-game commercials and announcements. With impatience, they sat through the commentators as they discussed the players to watch for. She couldn’t help but giggle when Blake, out of further impatience, shouted for them to hurry up. He then rolled his eyes.

“Being a cop hasn’t taught you any patience yet?” She asked, grinning around the rim of her beer bottle. He shook his head.

“Not when it comes to football, babe. _Never_ when it comes to football!”

She grinned and took another swig as the game finally came on. Blake gave an ecstatic whoop that Natalie shushed, much to his amusement. It sounded like it had been loud enough to make the neighbors complain. She shot him a playful, reprimanding look. Then the two of them devoted their attentions to the game playing on the plasma screen in front of them.

The game turned out to be a nail biter. Definitely one of the more stressful ones that season. One that Blake and Natalie had yet to go through together in their relationship. By half time, their cuddling had ended, and they were both sitting on the edges of their seats. The bowl of half-eaten popcorn sat on the coffee table in front of them. Their forgotten beers sat forgotten on the wood floor at their feet. The half time show was hardly acknowledged. They were both so desperate for the game to come back on. They _craved_ settling the bet the Blake had initiated. The one that Natalie had surprisingly found herself invested in.

The last half of the game was stressful not only for them, but also for their neighbors on their left side. They, over the course of the game, turned out to be fanatic followers of the opposing team. Whenever they cheered about their team scoring, Blake's voice would darken. It would become tinged with irritation. He would mutter how they weren’t true Gothamites if they weren’t followers of the home team. As he muttered, Natalie jumped up. She gave an ecstatic whoop as the Rogues scored the next touchdown. Her shout drowned him out.

She wasn’t sure, but was pretty sure, that by the end of the game, them and their neighbors had developed a rivalry. By the end of the game, both households were screaming at their respective TVs. They cheered their teams on. They jeered. They name-called the opposing team (many of which had Blake hurling ‘asshole’ and ‘dick’ back). The game had gotten Blake _so_ high-strung, that by the time the score tied with only two minutes left on the clock, he was standing on the couch. He jumped up and down while screaming for the Rogues to get their shit together. So, their douchebag neighbors wouldn’t be able to hold something over their heads when they passed each other in the hallways. Or when they stood beside each other in the elevator.

Their neighbors were shouting something similar. But a lot nicer than Blake was.

Natalie would have found the whole thing amusing if she wasn’t too busy worrying if he was going to fall and break something. Mostly, if that something _wasn’t_ going to be him. She knew Blake – she knew how hard his head was. She wasn’t worried about him in the slightest. It was her _furniture_ and the _floor_ she worried about.

“John, would you please _sit_ – Holy shit! Go, Rogues, GO!”

“Come on, come one, _come on_! Rogues, come on – _beat their fucking asses_!”

The buzzer rang out when the Rogue’s quarterback ran the touchdown. It seemed like half their building exploded into cheers along with half of Gotham. Their neighbors released loud groans of disappointment. Blake released a joyful yell and hopped down from the couch. His fists shot towards the ceiling. Natalie could only grin, laugh, and shake her head with good-natured contentment. She then quickly moved his half-empty beer bottle out of the way before he could tip it over. On the surface, Blake looked like a very well put together young man – and he _was_! You put football in front of him, though, and an entirely different animal would come marching out. While roaring its support for its home team in a very childlike way.

Chest heaving, he collapsed back onto the couch. Natalie gave a laugh as she picked up the remote and switched the channel. Gotham City News was what she flipped to, but neither took notice. Blake still had way too much adrenaline coursing through his veins to worry about Vicki Vale. Of preparations for Harvey Dent’s funeral. Natalie was too busy listening for angry fists on their door. No doubt it would be from the scorned neighbors next door. Angry at being so unceremoniously dragged into a rivalry.

“That was a good game!” She spoke before picking up her lukewarm beer and draining it. She grimaced at the taste. Blake nodded as he sat there, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Yup! Damn good game! Remind me to apologize to the neighbors later.” He grinned and she shook her head.

“I doubt it’ll do any good. I remember a few choice phrases coming from your mouth that’ll be hard to apologize for.” She returned. He shook his head and gave a bark of a laugh.

“I’ll blame it on the heat of the moment.”

She gave a snort of laughter. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that before.” She muttered, and immediately, Blake pinned her with a look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She gave a shrug. “Oh . . . nothing in particular.” She replied and he shook his head, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Oh no, I know you, Nat! Now what did you mean by that?” He demanded, and she shook her head again, forcing herself to keep a grin from off her face.

“ _Nothing_ , John! Forget it!” She told him and he nodded.

“Uh- _huh_. Okay, well . . .!” He shook his head as he pursed his lips. “Damn . . . it looks like you won, though!” He heaved a fake sigh as he picked up his beer and drained it. He then settled the now empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of them. Natalie furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“But . . . we were both rooting for the Rogues, right? ‘Cause _tell me_ I did not imagine your overexcitement!” She spoke, and Blake gave her a look that immediately had her shivering in very much of a good way.

“It’s a free country. I happened to change my mind at the last minute – I think I’m entitled to that! _So_ , I ended up losing!” He gave a shrug. “ _Guess_ that means you’re the one who gets oral tonight!” Natalie rolled her eyes as he sent her a look. “Lucky you!”

“Oh Christ, John, I can _tell_ how much you’re dying inside because of it!” She joked and he nodded, a grimace appearing on his face. Yet, that did not stop his fingers from making swift work of her jeans as he fell to his knees in front of her. A grin spread across his features as he pulled the denim down her legs along with her panties.

“Oh, you know I’m fuckin’ _dyin’_ inside, Nat!”

His voice sounded rough, strangled. If the slight tent to his jeans was any evidence, it was because of desire. He pressed trails of burning kisses down both her thighs. He avoided the very place she was quickly wanting him to be most. She didn't know where to put her hands. Eventually, she settled with one on the armrest behind her head. The other she moved to clench at the cushion beneath her.

She felt his fingers flirt along the edges of her wet sex and moaned a little in her throat. “Excited, are we?” Blake grinned.

“Mmm, what makes you say that?" She asked with a laugh. A breathless sigh fell from her. Her voice softened. "Touch me, John . . .?” She asked as she lifted her pelvis toward his mouth. She felt his breath stir the neat patch of dark hair between her thighs. His tongue flicked out against her wet flesh, parting her and then delving deep. He swirled it up over her clitoris, making her arch up off the couch. Her hand the cushion beneath her and delved and clenched in his hair.

Blake’s fingers worked deep inside of her. He drew out wetness and little gasps from her throat. His tongue teased her -- sent liquid-hot sensations rushing through her. Her toes curled as he flicked his tongue rapidly against her. The motion drew out more whimpers along with frantic mumbles of his name. He worked her. His fingers massaged in and out of her until she writhed around them. Until she begged for something deeper.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her hips bucked upward against his ravenous tongue and fingers. She dug her fingers into his shoulder, writhing upward, her mouth open.

“Don’t stop, John -- _oh_!” She cried out. Her hips crashed upward as she spasmed against Blake’s tongue. A hot explosion of light and molten heat slammed into her. She tensed up and then released, Blake’s name falling from her mouth over and over again. She took a deep breath and lifted herself up on her elbows.

Greedily, Blake licked at the wet insides of her thighs, his hands at her hips. Watching so intent on tasting every bit of her added an edge of hunger to her. He had sated only a small bit of her need for him.

She maneuvered herself onto her knees on the couch. She grasped him by the shoulders and tore his shirt over his head. She then used those handholds to guide him. She pulled and pushed him to lay back down onto the couch. He kissed her and her own taste was intoxicating. It mingled with the flavor of his mouth. He pulled her down against him and his hands wove into the thick fall of her ebony hair. She broke away from him and landed wet kisses down his chest, biting gently. He hissed through his teeth as he watched her progress.

She moved down the center line of his stomach, between his abs. She kissed and licked along the defined muscles. Her teeth scraped at his skin along the way. She pulled down his sweats and he lifted hips to help her. She wasn't surprised to see the lack of underwear beneath his sweats. She cocked a brow at him, and he shrugged. One of his arms rose, the hand moving to clench the armrest behind him. Like she had did.

"I thought _I_ was the one supposed to give oral tonight?" She spoke. She winked at him before she darted up to press a kiss to his lips.

"I changed the rules." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's a free country. I think I'm entitled to do that."

His face cracked in a grin. "Minx."

She smirked and continued down the path she had established earlier. Her name fell from him as she approached his cock, which was hard and flushed red. Her fingers caressed it lightly as she kissed down to the soft of his stomach and then up his shaft.

“Fuck, Nat . . .!” He breathed as his own hips rose eagerly. She slid her mouth down his cock while sucking him in deep. The head of him touched the back of her throat and she withdrew at a slow pace, her lips shaping him. Blake blew out a breath. His stomach muscles quivered. She went down on him again, a little faster this time. She worked her tongue into his slit as her lips closed over the crown of his cock. She sucked hard -- felt him shudder beneath her.

She worked her head down and then up, allowing him to slip to the back of her throat again. His hips lifted and filled her mouth completely with a curse. She bobbed her head, letting his pass her tight lips. She sucked him deep all the while. She caressed him with her fingers, tightened her fist. It didn’t take long at all before he writhed in her fingers like she had against him. One of his hands was in her hair, gripping tight as he urged her on.

“Nat, fuck, that feels . . . shit, I’m gonna . . . I'm gonna come . . .!” Blake spoke, breathless. She worked him faster and faster -- pumped him with her fingers and mouth. He came with a deep groan of satisfaction. She didn’t pull away and instead rode it out. She swallowed the come that spurted onto her swirling tongue. She continued to work him with her mouth, as greedy as he had been.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. She sensed it, knew it in the way he gripped at her. She lifted her mouth, breathing hard, and met his gaze. It burned holes into her. He grasped her forearms and pulled her up and across him. She covered his flushed torso -- felt his cock twitch against her stomach. No, he was most definitely not done with her yet.

Their lips met. She plunged her tongue into his willing mouth, already feeling the itch -- the need -- to have him inside her.

She kept kissing him. Her hair tumbled around both of their faces as she slung one leg over his. She moved to straddle his hips. His hands spread down her sides and gripped her hips in his wide, callused hands. His fingertips dug in, urging her . . .!

She sat up and flipped her hair over her shoulder. She felt sweat break out over her skin. When had it become so hot in the room?

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Natalie!” Blake murmured. His fingers and the heel of his palm caressed the center of her body as he gazed up at her. She smiled.

“Well, you aren't so bad yourself, Officer!” She replied before she reached down between them. His cock was already at half-mast, but the moment her fingers closed over him, he twitched and hardened.

A moan escaped him. His eyes slammed shut as the back of his head dug into the couch's pillow. Natalie smiled as she positioned herself over him. She rubbed the tip of his cock against her wet flesh. Then she sank down onto him.

He gripped her hips tight. His eyes squeezed shut upon feeling her tight, responsive body envelope him. She slid slowly down his hard length. Her mouth opened in a silent moan when she came to rest.

“Oh God, John . . .! You feel so good . . .!” She whispered as her nails dug furrows into his chest.

Blake nodded, his ability to speak beyond him for the moment. She shifted over him, started rocking her hips back and forth. The feel of him inside her was incredible. She put her hands on his stomach and rocked back and forth in a way she knew would make him impatient for more. He didn’t disappoint her.

Blake groaned beneath her. He gripped her hips and helped her. His own hips ground upward, filling her even further. “ _More_.”

She grinned down at him and quickly circled her hips. He cursed under his breath and jerked his hips upward several times. Her head flew back as he grazed her clitoris. The motion sent sparks of pleasure racing through her. He reached up and his hands moved up beneath the shirt she still wore. He cupped her full breasts, felt the weight of them in his palms. His thumbs flicked her nipples before he gently squeezed. She covered his hands with her own as her spine rolled and arched while she rode him.

Blake thrust upward, hard, and she gasped out in surprise. She tugged on his arm -- pulled him up onto his elbows. She leaned forward then and kissed him hard. Her tongue plunged into his mouth. He wrapped her up in his arms, pulled her flush against his warm, sweaty chest.

It took some maneuvering. Blake wrapped his arms around her, and she clutched him as he rose on his knees, taking her with him. He flipped her and pinned her to the couch. Blake sank back into her as his mouth left hers with a deep suck on her lower lip. His hands were everywhere. On her face, her breasts, her hips -- the undersides of her knees. He opened her up further to him. His speed increased as he battered himself against her. His hips snapped against hers, so deep she could hardly breathe.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders. She urged him on with whispered words and soft gasps as he stroked into her. Natalie closed her eyes and allowed the pleasure he caused to crest over her in waves. She tightened her thighs on his driving hips. His mouth was on her breasts again. He devoured her even as he thrust harder into her responsive body. He filled her, made her shudder, and shake beneath him on the couch. Blake panted against her breasts, his warm breath scattering across her flushed skin.

He claimed her mouth again and kissed her hard. One hand dove beneath her ass and lifted her pelvis upwards to meet him. She cried out against his lips and clutched at him. One hand was on his lower back, urging him in deeper.

“Come with me . . .!” She gasped against his mouth. She could feel her body coil, tighten. Liquid heat was rising over her like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Nat . . . _fuck_ , yes . . .!” Blake panted as he kissed her again. He thrust hard, taking her completely. He touched something deep that ached inside of her and then she was gone. Pleads for him to not stop fell from her mouth. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He _couldn’t_.

She heard him groan against her neck when he came inside of her. As his entire body convulsed against hers. She clutched at him. Her hips lifted high off of the couch as every nerve in her body twanged and snapped like wood in a fire.

She cried out as tremors raced through her. Her hot, slick body clamped around his, spasming until he was insensible against her. He buried his face against her neck. Her hand carded through his hair as he panted against her.

They came back to themselves slowly. Their chests heaved. Their breaths shot from them hard. Sweat slicked their skins. Blake lifted his head, his voice low and sated. His eyes appeared a bit glassy.

“ _Damn_ , I love you, woman!" He laughed, breathlessly. He lifted himself up on his elbows. Sweat glistened on his face. She looked up at him and smiled.

“I love you too." She replied as he moved to sit up. His fingers ran through his hair before moving down the center of his sweaty chest. He looked incredibly pleased with himself. Natalie moved to curl up into his side, her hair sticking to the both of them. His arm curled around her and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"So . . . did we both win?" He asked after a moment, and she laughed. She nodded her head.

"Yes, John! I definitely call that a win for the both of us!"

"Huh!" He spoke, frowning gently. "Next game, I'm gonna have to be clearer about the rules!" He moved to press another kiss to her hair. "You hungry? Should I order a pizza?"

She nodded and moved to fetch their clothes. Her body felt warm, lazy. She didn't try to move, simply slipped her clothes on while she sat there. She didn't trust herself to be able to move. She shot him a smile over her shoulder as he pulled on his own sweats. "Yeah, baby. A pizza sounds great!"

He answered her smile with a grin. It was infectious. Love bloomed for him in her heart. Her John Blake. "Great! I'll go call it in."

* * *

Natalie had a brother. Her brother, Billy, was a current inmate in Blackgate Prison. They hadn’t grown up with bad parents, quite the contrary – they had really _good_ parents! Emilia and Theodore Simmons had loved both their children and doted on them as much as they could. Natalie was the youngest and the baby, so naturally, that put a lot of pressure on Billy to be a good influence. Instead of _being_ that good influence, though, Billy ended up in the wrong crowd. At first, it was petty vandalism. The occasional shoplifting of cigarettes and beer from the local five-and-dime. After a while, that turned into grand theft auto and breaking into stores to steal things. By the time they packed him off to Blackgate, Billy Simmons was a career convict. His rap sheet was as long as your arm.

When she first started dating Blake, Billy had been furious. He accused her of sleeping with the enemy due to Blake being a cop with the Gotham City Police Department. That she had no loyalty. That she was dead to him. There was a whole lot of other hurtful things he spewed, as well. For a few months, his anger towards her burned bright and scalding. It all came to a head when he told her to not even bother making the trip up to visit him anymore. He didn't want to see her so long as she was seeing a cop.

Natalie had grown up with thick skin thanks to her brother and his friend. Especially the ones you did _not_ want to meet alone in a dark alley at night. She allowed his words and his anger to roll off her like water. She knew Billy didn’t mean it. Billy loved her. Their parents had died years ago in a freak car accident when they were young. Before Billy really hit stride with his life of crime. She was the only family he had left. Thanks to his own stupidity, he was stuck in that prison for an exceptionally long time. He realized she was one of his only links to the outside world. She would tell him what was going on – what was happening in Gotham and the world at large. How their Gam Gam was doing. He would eventually get around to asking if she had finally broken up with the pig. If she had finally got with a guy, he could shake hands with upon his release.

To Blake’s credit, he never sunk down to Billy’s level. He never hurled insults on how her brother was nothing more but a convicted lowlife who wasn’t worth a shit. She never saw a hint of something similar in him when she brought up that Billy had called or sent a letter. Instead, he was supportive of her. He helped her send care packages to her brother, mail letters. He even inquired around at the station. He had poked his nose into things. Sniffed out if there was anything, he could do to weasel a few years off his sentence. It was useless asking, of course, but him trying showed Natalie he cared. Despite what Billy said, it made her determined to stick with him. She had finally found a good guy in John Blake. She wasn’t about to give him up and fuck things up.

It was her brother’s latest prison letter that she was reading that morning. She was halfway down the page when Blake’s voice diverted her attention away from his messy scrawl. “Jeez, you’re up early . . .! What's the occasion?”

Natalie turned at the waist to watch him enter the living room from their bedroom. There was a groggy look in his eyes, his hair was messy despite its shortness. He was clad in nothing but a pair of his black boxer-briefs. Natalie grinned at the sight. Blake wasn’t much of a mourning person, unlike her. Still, that didn’t keep her from thinking about how damn cute he was in the morning.

She rolled her eyes before she returned her gaze down onto the piece of notebook paper in her hands. “Yeah, I know, but I thought I’d go visit Gam Gam today. Do some grocery shopping. Do some stuff around the house before I gotta go to work tomorrow.” Blake nodded as she quickly added: “Fresh coffee in the coffeepot, by the way.”

Blake grinned despite his grogginess as he continued to zombie-shuffle into the kitchen. “You’re an _angel_ , Nat!” He muttered and she gave a playful sound of caustic agreement. He picked up a chipped coffee mug from the dish strainer by the sink and moved to the coffee pot. He filled his mug with steaming black coffee and enough sugar to make Natalie’s teeth hurt. She wasn’t a big coffee drinker (although she did drink it occasionally). Still, she was fairly sure one did not usually drink it with enough sugar to threaten diabetes!

“What’s are you reading?” He asked as he took a sip of his coffee and moved to join her. He took a seat on the barstool beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her against him. She allowed him to and hardly noticed his fingers playing with the edges of her black panties.

“Billy’s latest letter.” She replied. He nodded and took another sip before and pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. Upon waking, she pulled on only in a pair of black boy shorts and matching tank top. She would have to get dressed soon if she wanted to catch the train to meet Gram Gram. Yet, with Blake beside her, warm and protective, she found herself wanting to linger. The thought of what happened last night after the game didn't help. She craved for them to play hooky so they could stay in bed all day.

She knew there was a fat chance in Hell of that happening, though. Blake was trying to make Detective. She knew he could allow frivolous days off to count against him. She would have to play dirty and tell him _all_ that she would be doing that day while home alone without him.

She could be mean like that sometimes.

Besides, she had to go to work tomorrow. She almost groaned at the though. The temptation to call out every day was real. But Natalie didn’t relish having her boss scold her like a child over how she should take better care of herself. After all, her petty job as a bank clerk right next to the New York Stock Exchange was _so important_!

“Anything new?” He asked out of politeness. He knew nothing had happened since Billy’s last letter. Except for someone getting shanked at dinner last week. The letter confirmed his suspicions when Natalie shook her head.

“Nope. Someone did get shanked during dinner one evening, but that’s about it . . .”

Blake released a snort of laughter that his gulp of coffee hid. He so called it.

“So, what else are you doing today, other than seeing Gam Gam, shop, and clean?”

Natalie gave a shrug. “I dunno. Kai mentioned something about going to lunch this afternoon, but I don’t know . . . I don’t think I’ll have time. I've just got so much I planned to do today on my _one_ day off!" She rolled her eyes. Her fingers ran through her hair. "And at work, my boss has been _hounding_ my ass! I can't do anything right lately, it seems!” She vented in irritation before setting down the letter, having finished reading it. Blake picked it up and his brows furrowed slightly in concentration as he read it.

“Maybe you’ll get a promotion soon. Maybe that’s why he’s been hounding you? Hell, maybe we’ll get one on the same day!" He grinned. "That’d be cool, wouldn't it?”

Natalie let out a snort of laughter. “ _No_ , the fucker just likes _looking_ at my ass!” She muttered before she stepped down from the barstool. He then turned and moved off in a huff down the hallway towards the bedroom, the shower, and her closet beyond. Blake let out a laugh as he turned to watch her go.

“Hey, as long as he doesn’t _touch_ your ass, I’m fine! Your glorious hindquarters are _mine_ , lady!” He called after her. Natalie rolled her eyes and shook her head, though, she did allow a small smile to spread across her face at his words.

“Oh, aren’t you my hero?” She called back, sarcasm lacing her tone. He gave a grin as he quickly drained his coffee. He heard the shower cut on and hurried to place the mug in the sink. He then took off down the sunny hallway. Pictures of them hung on the wall interspersed with the occasional Van Gogh and Cezanne.

“Hey, Batman can’t be everywhere at once, you know! All the other times, we little guys have to try our best to hold the fort without him!” He spoke and heard her laugh again from within the bathroom. The door was ajar ever-so-slightly. For a moment, as he headed to get his uniform out of his closet, he contemplated on whether he could use a shower, as well. He paused, deep in thought, as she spoke:

“ _Well_ . . .! At least Batman’s ass looks good in spandex . . .!”

Blake released a breathy laugh. “Oh, _okay_ , I see how it is! You better watch yourself, ‘cause I’m comin’ in!” He laughed before ditching his uniform on the rumpled bed. He stripped himself of his briefs as he went. He knew hopping in the shower would put him arriving at the station late. Gordon would most likely chew him a new asshole, but hey! He couldn’t have his own girlfriend talking that way about him, now could he?


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Explicit Sexual Content (because of COURSE! Gotta win that rating somehow!)

* * *

Natalie arranged for a nursing home for her grandmother at the first onset of her Alzheimer’s. It was one of the Gotham’s finest. Like Arkham and Wayne Manor, Willow Forest was outside the city limits. It was a welcoming building made of white brick. It had acres and acres of green lawns, a golf course, swimming pool, and nature trails. The facilities were clean and well-monitored. The doctors and nursing staff were some of the best in their fields. It was a tad on the expensive side for her tastes. She had struggled to make ends meet before she moved in with Blake (even _with_ the insurance company). Still, she wanted the best for the woman who had raised her and her brother after their parent's deaths.

“Hey, Nat, how are you today?”

Natalie smiled at the young woman working the front desk as she approached. “I’m doing fine, Katie, you?” She asked, and Katie smiled and nodded as she handed her clipboard of sign-in sheets.

“Same here. How’s John?” She asked. Natalie's smile brightened at the mention of Blake. He didn’t come with her often due to his work schedule, but when he did, he made sure to charm the pants off everyone. It was something she noted (with a hint of jealously) came quite naturally to him. Gam Gam adored him and every time he was around, she seemed a little better. It was proof to Natalie. A good attitude had the potential to have amazing healing properties.

It wouldn't have surprised her to learn that Katie – the sweet highschooler working the front desk as a part time job -- didn’t have a crush on Blake.

It would be something that would tickle Blake to learn.

“He’s doing fine, too. We both are.” She spoke as Katie nodded.

“Doctor Scarborough wants to see you before you leave. He has an update on your grandmother, as well as something else to discuss with you.” She told her. Natalie nodded as she finished signing her name and the date. She handed the clipboard back to her.

“That’s fine. Should I meet him in his office when I get ready to leave, or . . .?” She trailed off and Katie shook her head.

“I'll let him know you're here. He’ll come find you. I assume you’ll be with Constance?” Natalie nodded and Katie smiled. “That’s what I figured. She’s out on the veranda right now. On beautiful days like today, she likes being out in the sun.”

Natalie nodded and smiled. “Thanks. I’ll see you later, Katie.” She spoke, and Katie echoed the sentiment as Natalie moved off down the hallway. Her heels clicked on the polished linoleum as she made her languorous down the corridor. She reached the glass double doors that led to the veranda she was fairly sure her Gam Gam was out on.

She had been right. A broad grin appeared on her face when she caught sight of the little old lady. She in her wheelchair out on the white stoned veranda. Stretched before her were those acres and acres of green lawn. Sunlight fell on her and illuminated how small she was in her dressing gown. How thin her wispy white hair was getting. When she opened the doors and stepped outside, Constance looked up. The grin she wore matched Natalie’s.

“Oh, Natalie, sweetheart! It’s so good to see you!” She spoke up, the happiness she felt upon seeing her almost heartbreaking. Natalie couldn’t help but feel giddy and relieved as she moved over to her Gam Gam. She stooped down beside her. She was happy she was actually recognized for once! She took her grandmother's hand in hers after pressing a loving kiss to her withered cheek.

“Gam Gam, you look so good since the last time I was here!” She spoke before quickly adding in her mind: _God only knows when that’s been to you!_ Constance shook her head and waved a dismissive hand through the air.

“Oh, well, it was only a week ago, so I’m not sure how much I _have_ changed! And I’m sure _they_ would disagree with you!" She spoke, gesturing with an irritated elbow back towards the doors of the veranda. Natalie smiled again as Constance continued speaking. “They _insist_ on me eating these . . . well, I don’t know what they are, but they are _disgusting,_ and I _refuse_ to eat them! Still . . .!” She sighed and trailed off. Natalie couldn’t help but allow her smile to grow into something that resembled a grin again.

“Please, Gam Gam, tell me you’re eating your broccoli!” She spoke. When Constance shot her a reprimanding look, Natalie broke off into laughter. Constance released a hum of disapproval and waved a hand at her.

"Yes, yes, I know! I shouldn’t be talking after how I toiled to get you and Billy to eat yours when you were kids, but, oh, I don’t know . . .!” She trailed off then. Her fingers appeared at the simple gold cross necklace that hung around her neck. “It’s hard for me to eat them and the taste is _horrible_ , but the nurses, they _insist_ . . .!”

Natalie nodded, her expression softening. “I’ll talk to them, okay? Maybe I can get them to switch you to something else.” She told her. Constance smiled and gave a happy nod as Natalie reached into her purse and took out Billy’s folded letter. Constance’s brows furrowed when she brought it into view. “Look, Gam Gam, I got a letter from Billy this morning. Do you want me to --?”

“Billy? Oh, where is he? You've heard from him?” She asked, interest filling her eyes. Natalie continued to stoop there for a moment, at a temporary loss for words. Of _course,_ it had seemed too good to be true! Of _course,_ her Gam Gam had to forget _something!_ It might-as-well be that her grandson was behind bars at Blackgate again. How was she to explain things -- explain something this hard? That this time, he would be gone for an _insane_ amount of time, and all because the judge had become tired of seeing him? Natalie swallowed hard as her grandmother wearily shook her head. “He hasn’t come to see me in so long, Natalie! I was afraid he had forgotten all about me . . .!”

Natalie’s face fell as her Gam Gam trailed off, at a sudden loss for words. She tried to tell herself that it could be worse. That it was a Godsend she _had_ forgotten – even if it was for nothing more than a day. At least she would forget for a while on how she would never see her grandson again in her lifetime. Natalie knew how much that knowledge ate away at her grandmother whenever she wasn’t there.

Natalie rose to her feet and pulled a white wicker lawn chairs closer to Constance’s wheelchair. She wracked her brains on what to say. “He, uh . . . Gam Gam, he’s on a trip. He won’t be back for a long time. He . . . needed to get out of Gotham for a while.” Constance nodded, her expression becoming sad. Natalie suddenly regretted her words. She did not mean to make her grandmother sad when she first made the decision to come visit her!

“You know, I keep telling people that Billy’s not a bad boy. He just . . . he fell in with the wrong crowd growing up, you know?” She spoke and Natalie nodded. Billy _wasn’t_ a bad guy. Quite the contrary. He had become quite proficient making both their parents _and_ Gam Gam hit the roof whenever he’d bring home a stray. They would always be some kind of injury involved. And there would be Billy, the whole time, promising that they would only stay until they got better. His heart _was_ in the right place. With a particular soft spot for animals, she would add. And before they sentenced him, he had come to visit Constance, without fail, every day. He always brought her flowers to brighten her room. He would also flirt, without shame, with any the nurses. Hell, most of the time, their Gam Gam would act as his excited Wingwoman.

"All you need is a good woman!" Constance would tell him sternly. "Watch! A good woman would set you straight, Billy!"

In fact, his constant visitation of her had been one of their most frustrated topics together. She could not _begin_ to count how many times she had gotten into a fight with Billy about it. She didn't understand how he could bring himself to visit their Gam Gam every day, only to go home and do what he did. To steal, and carjack, and just act like a complete and total asshole! What kind of person with a healthy moral compass did that?

Natalie thoughts trailed off and stopped before she could work herself into a lather. Things could not be helped anymore, could they? Billy was back in Blackgate for his stupidity. This time with a nice long prison sentence around his neck. And their Gam Gam was reaping the consequences of that stupidity. She hoped he was happy with himself, but then immediately felt guilty about hoping for such a thing. Of course, Billy wasn’t happy! Then again, she had to admit it was most likely him being unhappy they _caught_ him! Not that he was unhappy he had left behind the two people who supposedly mattered the most to him.

“Anyway, he says he’s fine and that he . . . he’s sorry he went away without telling you.” Natalie spoke. Constance adopted a soft look at her granddaughter’s lame words. She sensed the underlying steel, though. There was something else Natalie wasn’t telling her. But for a moment, she allowed herself to marvel at the strength in her granddaughter’s words. The strength that lay there in the shape of her pretty face and the way she held herself. It was a strength her brother shared. A strength that had come from losing their parents much too early in their young lives. It was a strength that saddened her. She had done the best she could raising her son’s children. She knew they were grateful for everything she had done, but that _steel_ in their bones! That kind of steel was saddening! Having strength was one thing – an _important_ thing to have! Oftentimes, though, the ways one got that strength, was ugly. It was by combating the cruelties of what the world could throw at you. _That_ was what was sad.

Because of that, Constance took her granddaughter’s words as what they were. She didn’t prod her for more information. Instead, she leaned forward and took a surprisingly strong hold of Natalie’s hand. The surprise showed in her face as their eyes connected. “Enough of this, Nat! You didn’t come here to be sad. Now, tell me – how is that boyfriend of yours? John -- was his name, again?”

Natalie’s expression softened, which made Constance’s soften in turn. She knew from the moment they walked in together that her granddaughter was smitten by the young man. And from the way he looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention, the feeling was very much mutual. It warmed her heart knowing Natalie could be happy. She had been so sad when she was an adolescent.

“He’s doing well! We both are! He . . ." She laughed. "He’s been trying to get promoted to detective. Once he does, we’re thinking about getting a bigger apartment.” She gave her a smile. “That way, maybe you could come visit us sometimes. You'd like that, right? That way you're not cooped up here all the time.” She spoke and Constance's smile turned damn near conspiratorial. Natalie couldn’t help but grin at the look.

“As well as an apartment for other things, right?”

Natalie’s grin fell into a smile as she averted her gaze to her hands clasped in her lap. She knew her Gam Gam was referring to children. To marriage and all the other important, life-binding stuff. The thought made her give an airy laugh. She nodded. “We’ve, uh . . . we’ve _certainly_ talked about it, Gam Gam. About kids, and marriage, and everything. We’ve decided that we’re gonna wait until things are a little bit more stable in Gotham before bringing a child into it.”

Constance nodded in understanding. “I understand, sweetheart. It would . . . just be _swell_ to meet my great-grandchild while I can still remember things. You know?” She confided, her tone a little forlorn. Natalie’s heart gave a twinge of pain as she nodded. She would have liked nothing more than the same thing, but . . . things weren't ideal. She thought back to the catastrophes attributed to the Joker and Harvey Dent. She thought about the crime rate still being what it was. Not that Batman wasn't a help, of course!

It surprised her when Blake had agreed. He told her that he thought they should allow themselves _and_ Gotham time to stabilize. Once they felt more secure, they could cement themselves and start putting down roots. Despite that agreement, she knew Blake was starting to get the itch to settle down. It was he who suggested they look for a bigger apartment if he got the promotion. After that, she could only figure they were on the first stepping-stone heading in that direction. Then there was him lingering on the fringes of jewelry stores whenever they would go to the mall. How he had started avoiding the baby section of stores . . .!

The thought warmed her, and she perked up a little. “ _But_ that _doesn’t_ mean he’s not gonna propose soon . . .!” She admitted, the news delighting her grandmother. She gave a girlish squeal of delight that had Natalie laughing. She reached over and took up one of her granddaughter’s hand again.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, dearie! Now all we have to do is find Billy someone, and I can die in peace. You two deserve to be happy, you know?” She spoke, but Natalie shook her head.

“You’re not going to die anytime soon, Gam Gam, so don’t worry about it!” She told her before leaning down and pressing a loving kiss to her temple. “And I’m sorry I can't stay longer, but today is my day off and I have a bunch of things I still need to do.” She told her. Constance’s smile fell. Still, she gave a nod and a strong smile that made Natalie’s heart ache.

“Oh, that’s fine, sweetheart -- I understand! I enjoyed catching up with you, as I always do. Have a good rest of the day, won’t you? And give John a kiss for me, as well -- a real sloppy one!” Natalie smiled and nodded. A laugh bubbled up as she leaned down to give her grandmother a hug. She held her tightly for a moment, not wanting to let go. Almost as if she was afraid her grandmother would disappear if she didn't keep hugging her. Eventually, though, she released her. She told her goodbye with a promise that she’d be back sometime again by the end of the week.

She ran into her grandmother’s doctor midway down the hall to the lobby. The middle-aged, balding Dr. Scarborough smiled and shook her hand. “Good morning, Nat. How are you? Beautiful weather, right?” She nodded in agreement. She then told him it seemed like Constance was doing particularly well that morning. Dr. Scarborough nodded as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown corduroy coat.

“She is. We’re quite pleased! The medication seems to work well. Though, while she’s still in the minor stages, I must warn you, we might encounter some rough patches. These will, of course, increase as she progresses, but even so, we remain optimistic.”

Natalie gave a tight smile. She hugged her purse to her stomach, almost as if it was a shield. “You’ve told me this countless times before, doctor. Is this what you needed to talk to me about?” She asked, and his face fell. He heaved a sigh.

“Well . . . _no._ There is something else, I'm afraid. It’s about your mother’s insurance.”

A lead stone fell into Natalie’s stomach. She swallowed hard and nodded. This wasn’t going to be good. “Okay. What seems to be the issue?”

He heaved another sigh and took a step closer to her. His voice lowered, as if he were wary of eavesdroppers. “Your grandmother’s insurance company has filed for bankruptcy, I’m afraid. They have, as a result, shut their doors. It was quite sudden, and we only received the news this morning. Which means, of course, that they won’t be able to pay the brunt of her bill anymore.”

Natalie felt the sharp burn of tears in her eyes and suddenly felt quite light-headed. Dr. Scarborough’s brow furrowed in concern as he touched his fingers to her elbow. “Natalie, are you okay?” He asked. She swallowed hard and blinked back furious tears before giving a nod.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!" She forced a small measure of brusqueness into her voice. "What . . . what are our options going forward?”

Inside, she was freaking the fuck out. There was no _way_ her and Blake could afford the entirety of her grandmother’s bill! Even _if_ he got this promotion and pay raise! Even then, she wouldn’t want to burden him with it. Constance was _her_ grandmother, not his. They weren’t even married yet too, so why should some of the burden fall onto him?

Dr. Scarborough heaved a sigh and gave a shrug. “We all love Constance – she is an absolute _joy!_ But . . . we have policies, too, Nat. We have a board, and they have been quite firm on the matter. If you cannot find a way to pay the bill, then . . .” He gave another, sadder, shrug. “I’m afraid that we won’t be able to keep her.”

Natalie felt faint again. What would she do? She couldn’t afford to pay Willow Forest’s expensive bill, even _if_ Blake told her he would help! Without the home, too, Gam Gam would lose all the support and medication that was keeping her stable. She felt so much like crying but refused to do so in front of this doctor who was simply doing his job.

She gave the strongest smile she could muster before nodding. “Can I . . . can I get back to you in a few days? I have . . . I have to discuss things with John.” She told him and he gave an apologetic smile and a nod.

“Of course! Take all the time you need! You're paid up until the end of the month, so please, get back to us at any time!” He reached forward and planted a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I hope you get things sorted out, Nat, I really do. We’d all hate to see Constance go. She’s been doing so well.” Natalie nodded. She thanked him and quickly said her goodbyes before taking off towards the lobby. She opened one of the doors and all but ran down the steps to the parking lot. She took leave of a Dr. Scarborough who had not the slightest inkling of what to say to make it all better.

She reached into her purse and withdrew her phone as she neared her car. Tears were quickly filling her eyes. She had a lump forming in her throat. She was searching for Blake’s number in her recent calls list as they started streaming down her cheeks. Her vision blurred. The phone was ringing as she put it to her ear. He answered after a few rings. His voice, cheerful and so very _fucking_ Blake, made her release an immediate sob. She wished he was there with her then, at that moment. She needed his arms around her, the smell of him filling her nose. The sound of her sob made his tone change. Concern filled his voice as it lowered.

“Natalie, what’s wrong? What happened?”

She shook her head as she yanked open her car door and slid inside. “It’s Gam Gam, John. I just -- I don't . . .!” She paused and closed her eyes as she fought to get herself under control. In the end, she failed. Her shoulder quaked as she lay her head on the steering wheel. " _Jesus_ , John, I don't know what to do!"

“That's easy." He spoke with nary a thought. "Go home. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

Natalie shook her head. She answered almost immediately. “No, John, stay at the station! You’ve got that promotion you’ve been trying to get. I’ll tell you when you come home tonight. I'll be fine until then --!”

“Nat, _no_!” He interrupted her, his voice a damn near growl. She felt a bloom of love for him in her heart. “I’m coming home and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind. If Gordon has a problem with me going home to support my girlfriend when a problem comes up, then Gordon can shove it!”

She gave a watery smile. “I love you.” She murmured, and Blake’s voice was soft when he replied.

“I love you too, baby. I’ll see you at home.”

* * *

  
“Are you sure they can’t do anything?”

Natalie gave a miserable shake of her head. They sat on the barstools in front of the island countertop they had occupied that morning. Blake sat beside her, facing her. He had planted one hand on the small of her back. With his brows furrowed in gentle concern, he watched as she took a swig from her beer bottle.

“The company filed for bankruptcy and shut their doors. There’s no one to pay her bills but us. Unless we find a way to pay those bills, she . . .!” She sighed and shook her head. “She might have to move in with us.”

Blake nodded and rubbed a soothing path up and down her back. “Then that’s what we’ll do, Nat. If it comes to that.”

“But we don’t have room, John!” She spoke. Her voice broke with the sheer amount of _emotion_ that had been whirling throughout her body. That had been wreaking havoc in her brain. “We have this room, our bathroom, and our bedroom. What am I going to do – make my sick grandmother sleep on the fucking _couch_?” She then broke down into sobs. Her face buried in her arms as she crossed them on the countertop. Blake heaved a sigh as he moved closer to her. One arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her close to him. She went with so much reluctance that it almost tore his heart in two.

“Look, Nat, we’ll figure out what to do _together,_ okay? There are loans we can apply for -- you work at a bank for God's sake! If not that, then we’ll either scrounge up the money every month to keep her in that place, or we’ll bring her here and we’ll . . . find _some way_ to make her comfortable!" He released a breathless laugh. "You are _not_ alone in this, Natalie! Not anymore, anyway – you have me!”

Natalie gave a laugh as she brought her head up. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I don’t know why you stuck around after hearing this. Most guys wouldn’t, you know.”

Blake adopted a look of shock on his face. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! How could she so blatantly put herself down? Eventually – and slowly – he shook his head. “Natalie, I love you! I want to get married to you! I want to have kids with you! If you honestly think this is the worst that’s gonna ever hit us, then you’re wrong! We’ll figure out what to do, okay? We’ll get through this, just like we’ll get through everything else this cruel world sends our way!”

Natalie shot him a small, thankful, watery smile. He returned it with one of his own as she looped a hand around his neck and brought him closer to her. “We’ll get through this, Nat, I promise!” He murmured. She sniffed and nodded before their lips connected in a loving, passionate kiss.

His words and his kiss were sweet – exactly as Blake himself was. Yet, Natalie couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt that theory of them having to make it through much harder things, was frightening close to coming true.  
  


* * *

  
" _Fuck_!"

"Yeah, you like that?"

Natalie nodded. Her teeth sunk down into her bottom lip as she bore her hips down on his fingers. Blake released of groan of his own as her hand around his cock increased it's speed. Outside, thunder boomed, and rain pelted the windows in fat drops. Inside, they lay coiled together on the bed, naked. They had wedged their hands tight between their bodies, going hard at third base.

His fingers curled inside her. His thumb continued it's leisurely circling of her clit. His fingers found her g-spot and she gasped, and moaned, and writhed against him. She tried to close her legs around his hand but his thigh sliding on top of hers stopped her, kept her open.

"Fuck, baby!" He groaned into her ear. Her grip on him tightened. His fingers withdrew from her, making her whine. Only for her breath to hitch as they rubbed tight little circles around her clit. He nuzzled her. "Hey, you want to sixty-nine?"

She released a breathless laugh. "What are you, _twelve_?"

He replied to her laugh with a breathless one of his own. "Hey, fuck off with that shit -- a twelve-year-old wouldn't have you humpin' his fingers like this! No, for reals, though . . .!" His tongue flicked at her earlobe and she shuddered, ground her hips down. She whimpered as his fingers lessened, only to resume their onslaught when she backed off. "I want to suck on your clit so fucking bad right now, Nat." She shuddered and moaned against him at his words. He grinned. "And if you want to suck on my cock while I do that, then that's great! But I'll take you sitting on my face, too."

If she was being honest, sixty-nine wasn't really her cup of tea. Still, though, she'd be lying if she said his words didn't do something to her. The thought of riding his face made her cunt throb.

"Okay." She relented. She turned to look at him and gave a playful roll of her eyes. "You convinced me!"

He grinned as they released each other and disentangled their limbs. “You ready? Turn around.”

Wordlessly, she obeyed him. Rising onto her knees, she threw a leg over him, facing away. She heard his breath catch. He thought Natalie was gorgeous, in and out of bed. But, God, this was his favorite sighting of her. Straddling his head, her delicate pink folds already swollen and slick with need for him. _Fuck!_

 _“_ Alright, come to daddy, baby . . .! _”_ Blake breathed as he grasped her hips and lowered her closer to his face. He then proceeded to lose himself. He lapped at her and his tongue delved deep into her cunt. He licked, sucked, and nipped at her lips. His head filled with the sounds of her breathless whimpers and wordless sighs.

Yeah, sixty-nine might not be her favorite, but that didn't mean she never missed an opportunity. Her hand wrapped around his erection as she rocked back. The motion pressed her cunt into Blake’s face while she wrapped her lips in a tight suckle around the head of his cock. Pleasure exploded in his brain. He couldn't help but arch into her. It was a full body contraction that slid him further into her mouth while forcing his tongue deeper into her sex.

They both gasped. The soft sounds of her pleasure continued to fill his mind. Her lips curled around him, hot, wet, and achingly delicious. It only served to stoke the fire that licked at his core. Natalie's tongue lapped at his sensitive head while her hands worked his base. Blake hummed appreciatively into her folds as she slid him home. It became a game. A sort of back-and-forth cat and mouse. She rocked back into him, he curled to chase her as she took him deeper. It was a competition to see who broke first.

Blake’s entire lower half was throbbing, not just his cock. His balls felt tight. His hands scrabbled at her hips and ass as he focused all his attention on her pleasure. His entire body felt wound tight. His muscles clenched in eager anticipation, but he held off. His toes curled and his breath panted at the strain of it.

He was not going to lose that time. Not that night.

Blake's lips wrapped around her sensitive clit. He sucked hard while his fingers curled inside her, scraping against her g-spot again. The strangled moan she emitted around his cock was almost a sensory overload for him. And judging by her reaction, it was definitely one for her. Her entire body spasmed as she came, and Blake’s eyes rolled shut as the first of her spasms fluttered around him. He won. He eked out her orgasm from her by the skin of his teeth. He lay there, enjoying the clench of her inner muscles around his fingers and tongue. He lapped her up eagerly, reveling in each pulse of her cunt as he worked her through her high. He savored every tangy drop as she fell apart above him.

Her lips remained locked around him. Each breathy sigh and moan sent a shockwave of sensation rocketing through his cock. It happened over and over until he was coming, too. She released a squeak of alarm but didn't let it faze her. Her mouth withdrew to his head as he came in wave after wave of delicious relief into her mouth. She swallowed every drop as he lay there, his mind blinking on and off, on and off. He became vaguely aware of Natalie collapsing back onto him. She was hot, boneless, and trembling, and rolled to the side soon after, still panting.

She lay that way for a long time, shuddering, recovering. Blake could hardly distinguish what body belonged to who. They were both breathless, panting, and left trembling in the aftermath.

Eventually, he came back to himself long enough to notice he had an excellent view of her ass. He broke out into a grin as he gave it an affectionate nip.

Natalie released a breathless giggle against his knees. “ _John_ . . .!” She whined brokenly. Her voice remained thready and raspy. Blake’s lips curled into a lazy, satisfied smile. It must have been good if she was unable to protest his teasing.

After a moment, he rose his arms and did the sound of a fake sports crowd. " _Ahhhh_! _Ahhhh_!" Blake whispered, breathless, a grin on his face. Natalie couldn't help but wear one as well. "There goes that _double play_!"

She laughed until she held her sides. "Blake, stop it! You fucking weirdo!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you not old enough to remember the Make-Out Bases, "3rd Base" is Below the Waist Action and "Double Play" is multiple orgasms. The first orgasm was committed off screen. 
> 
> Sorry 'bout that.


	3. Chapter Three

* * *

“ _Marcia_! Hi!" Natalie spoke up in the most cheerful voice she could muster. That morning, she stood behind her assigned counter at the First National Bank of Gotham. Clad in her smart business casual attire, she hated seeing the woman who walked through the door. Still, though, it was unavoidable. This _was_ the bank she belonged to, anyway.

She greeted the look the curvaceous, redheaded Marcia Scott as soon as she entered. She had to: she was the only teller open at that moment. Still, though, the woman stood there for a moment and looked around the bank. Hoping maybe that she would find another open teller? Or one she could glare into opening up. When she was unsuccessful, she pinned Natalie with a look she could have described as one of _the_ biggest bitch-faces she had ever seen. Her customer support smile remained in place, though. Unshakeable. Unswerving.

“Oh. Hi, Natalie. You still work here?” She asked with a sniff and an upturned nose. She moved to approach her counter and Natalie smiled and gave a nod. Her grin turned down to a tight smile.

“Yes, I still work here." Her brows furrowed gently. "For some reason, I get the feeling that I’m supposed to apologize to you for that?” Marcia rolled her eyes and unzipped her expensive leather bag. She reached inside and withdraw two checks. These she placed delicately on the green marble countertop.

“I need to cash these, please.” Her tone was prim and unconcerned.

Natalie arched a brow. “Fine. Cash or deposit?”

“The big one deposit, the small one, cash.”

Natalie gave a nod while trying her damndest to ignore how much more money Marcia made than she did. Or was that her alimony check from Millionaire Ex-Husband #4? Either way, it had a lot of zeros and Natalie was jealous. Especially after the news Dr. Scarborough had dealt her the previous day. “You know your account number?”

The redhead gave a short nod. “Yeah, it's right here . . .” She slid a post-it across the marble countertop scribbled with a bunch of numbers. Her nails were long, coral pink, and studded with a tiny diamond. Natalie forced back the incredulous laugh that bubbled in her throat. She instead focused on getting her out of the bank as soon as possible. She quickly typed it her information before sliding it back across to her. Silence pervaded the space between them. It was awkward and uncomfortable. Hard to breathe in like it was molasses. Eventually, Marcia was the one who broke it. She leaned forward slightly when she spoke.

“So! Before I forget to ask -- how’s . . . how’s Blake?”

Natalie gave a nod. She smiled. Marcia might have the money. She might have the Jessica Rabbit figure, but Natalie had something she didn't. John Blake.

“He's good! We both are. He’s gunning for a detective promotion. If he gets it, then we’re going to be looking into a bigger apartment.” They’d have to, now, to support Gam Gam moving in with them. Natalie and Blake had discussed it further that morning when they woke up. Neither felt particularly comfortable getting a loan from the bank.

“And a ring?” Marcia asked with an upturned brow. Natalie paused in her typing to shoot a glance her way.

“That's . . . becoming possible. We’ve talked about it. But the way our finances are going this year, I doubt if it’ll lead to that.” She spoke, somewhat clipped, before returning to what she had been doing. Marcia gave an elaborate sigh and turned her gaze away. Natalie did, though, catch a look of distaste on the statuesque woman’s face before it disappeared.

“You know . . ." She paused, appearing to search for words for a moment. When she spoke, it was with a clipped voice. As if she did not want to have this conversation but felt compelled to. "I'm sorry, but when he told me he had a roommate, I didn’t know it was you! If I would have known, I would have . . .!” She told her before trailing off. Natalie gave a little smile and a shrug.

“It's alright. I understand. It must be hard, knowing that you were the second choice. That the only reason you were with him was because he couldn’t get me. _Ooh_ , how much that must _boil_ you inside!”

 _Natalie shot him a look of amusement over her bowl of Captain Crunch as he entered the kitchen that morning. He came out from his bedroom looking a tad worse for wear. He looked hungover and like he had run a marathon on top of that. She clicked her tongue. “Damn, Blake -- she rated you a_ five _, tough guy! You’re losin’ your touch!”_

_He shook his head and shot her a grin as he readied his coffee. “Naw, Nat, it ain't like that. She wasn’t the one I wanted so I just didn't try.” He shrugged. "Her tough luck, I guess!"_

Marcia gave her a tight smile. “Well, I can certainly admit defeat." She sighed, her voice lowering. "I don’t know why he wanted you instead of me, but all’s well that ends well, I suppose! I wish the both of you much happiness!” She spoke, sounding much more genuine than Natalie would have expected. She paused then and turned a furrowed brow up onto her.

“Really?” She asked, and Marcia nodded.

“Of course!" She released a laugh as she threw her hands up in the air. "Who is John Blake anyway in the grand scheme of things? There’s a lot more men out there than one might think.” She spoke with a nonchalant shrug. Natalie gave a slow nod.

“Other, of course, than the one who got away?”

Marcia’s eyebrow rose in a very condescending expression. She opened her mouth to speak but a sudden, very loud screech from outside, interrupted her. Both of their eyes widened in surprise as they turned their gazes onto the glass front of the bank. From the left of her, Natalie felt her friend and fellow bank teller come to stand beside her. She and Kai shared an uneasy glance. When they returned their gazes onto the window, they saw smoke billowing outside. The pitch blackness of it blocked the outside world. One of the bank's three security guards inched towards the doors. His two fellow guards were hot on his heels, all on high alert. Natalie felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. What was going on? Where was that thick smoke coming from?

“I wonder what happened.” Kai murmured. She had crossed her arms in front of her. Marcia shook her head. The gaze she turned onto them was one of uneasiness. She had crossed her arms in front of her chest, as well.

“Maybe . . . maybe there was a car accident outside? A pile-up?” She shrugged. "It's known to happen!"

“With that much smoke, though? And would the smoke be _black_?” Natalie asked. This time, Kai and Marcia both shrugged.

“Or maybe there’s a burst water main, even! Those throw up a lot of smoke, right?” Kai suggested next, her tone hopeful. Natalie and Marcia both shook their heads. Natalie knew it wasn’t either of those things but didn’t say anything more. She knew Marcia was thinking the same. Her heart had picked up it's beat. It pounded like a drum in her chest -- told her it wasn’t anything that innocent. That innocuous. They watched with bated breath as the smoke started to clear. They relaxed when peaks of the building across the street started coming into view. Yet, as their window to the outside world, cleared, they saw things were not as peaceful as they hoped. People were running down the sidewalks and across Broadway. They were screaming, shouting for help. There were crashes, bangs, the sounds of breaking glass. The three women stiffened as an air of palpable fear took hold of the bank as everyone seemed to freeze in place. Whatever was going on, wasn’t good.

A loud explosion split through the air, shaking the foundations of the building. Dust and debris flew through the air with the impact. The three women shrieked and cringed away from the blast as choking smoke filled the air. Glass from the doors and windows, as well as marble from the walls and the ceiling, rained down on them. The heavy sound of boots crunching on glass filled the air. It joined the coughing and sobbing from those who had found themselves caught in the blast. Shouts and commands filled the air, as well. Men entered the ruined building, countless amounts of them. They wore army fatigues and carried what looked like automatic rifles. Was it the military? No . . . no, these guys were too mean looking for the military. And besides -- why would the city need the military on Broadway Street in Gotham?

“Everyone freeze! Move the slightest and you get a bullet!” One of the soldiers called out. He had a heavily accented voice that none one of the women could immediately place. It sounded Middle Eastern, though, maybe Eastern European? Along with the accent, he had swarthy looks, but they couldn't afford to pay attention for long. People scattered throughout the bank froze again in horror. A terrible hush fell around them as another man entered. He was silent but alert. His piercing gaze took in everything and everyone around him. His very hulking presence commanded everyone’s immediate attention.

The man was massive – easily one of the biggest men Natalie had ever seen in her life. Built like a bull on two legs, his torso alone seemed bigger than most men. He appeared as a being of pure muscle, each ligament full of inert energy and raw, devastating power. His gaze was piercing. It was cold and alert as he stepped deeper into the building. She trembled in fear at the sight of him and wondered if the others were too. She had never seen a man like him before! Yet, the most frightening thing about him wasn’t the way he held himself. It was the mechanical . . . _thing_ he had strapped to his head. It looked like some twisted personification of a head crab from Half Life (thanks Blake!).

He scanned the surrounding area. His gaze skipped over his men and many of the people there. They skimmed over the devastation wrought in his wake. Yet, they lingered when they fell onto her. She swallowed hard. Her breathing deepened beneath the suddenness of his intense gaze. It was almost as if he was delving into her very soul with that gaze. He saw everything that made her tick. He saw exactly what had happened to mold her into the woman she was at that moment. A look of interest darted across his gaze before something else joined it. It was something frightening in it's darkness.

Kai sensed his gaze on her friend and grabbed up her hand in hers. Their fingers threaded together. She squeezed her hand and Natalie was quick to return the squeeze. Natalie felt like a woman staring down a bull. He terrified her. She did not want to break its gaze lest the beast decide to charge her. He terrified her and not necessarily in a flight-or-fight kind of way. It was a deep seated, primal terror that gripped her. It was the kind of terror you only got when you witnessed a murder. Or when you found yourself faced with the terrifying realization that you were . . . going to die.

She swallowed hard when it occurred to her that one of those two things were about to happen now that he was here. There was no avoiding it. This man was death.

After a palpable moment, he raised an arm and leveled a finger onto her. She felt her breath pulled almost violently from her lungs. For an excruciating moment, she couldn’t make herself breathe. Tears filled her eyes as his booming, terrifyingly mechanical voice split the air. “That one. Bring her to me.”

It was then that she _knew_ she was staring Death in the face. Huddled there, her heart pounded, and acid filled her veins and her mouth. Back mask and all, the sight of him told her that her life was about to change. A complete, drastic change. She remained there as his men marched towards them. She felt their hands grip her arms, pull her to her feet.

She realized she hadn’t told Blake she loved him when they left for work that morning.  
  


* * *

  
“So . . . you got her a ring yet?”

Blake looked up from the file open on his desk. Commissioner James Gordon stood beside him. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest and there was a small smile on his bearded face. Blake gave a smile and laughed as his fingers appeared at his lips. He shook his head.

“No, sir. I’ve been trying to find the right one.”

Gordon gave a laugh. “Why don’t you enlist the help of her best friend if you’re so conflicted? Isn't that normally what has to happen?” He asked. Blake sat there and thought for a moment. It _had_ occurred to him to enlist the help of Kai, but then again, he couldn’t be sure she would be able to keep the secret. He knew Kai wouldn’t do it out of spite -- she was too good-hearted for that. Still, he knew the woman would be so excited for her best friend that she wouldn’t be able to keep it back. It would be like fighting a losing battle for her.

He gave a shrug. “Like Kai would be able to keep a secret!" He grinned and Gordon gave a laugh.

“You know, Blake, when me and Barbara --!”

Gordon found himself interrupted by the sudden eruption of the station into movement. Shouts and orders filled the air along with the scuffling of shoes and the frantic crackling of coms. Blake jumped to his feet, bewildered, wondering what the fuck had just happened. Gordon’s eyes widened in shock, as well, as an officer turned around to face them. There was a worried look on his face. When he spoke, he directed his words to Blake instead of Gordan.

“Blake, it’s the First National Bank of Gotham – someone attacked it! They blew it up!” He spoke before hesitating. “And there are reports that whoever did it took Natalie.”  
  


* * *

"Hey! Abul!"

Abul turned around when he heard his commander's barked words. He had slung his gun across his back when Bane ordered them to retrieve the woman from the rubble of the bank. He stood there with his three compatriots, each with a hand wrapped firmly around the arm of one of them. He knew without looking which one Bane wanted. He had, after all, done all the legwork.

It wasn’t the redhead. Bane didn't like redheads. The one in the middle was closer to the target but there was something about her that wasn't like Natalie.

No. Bane wanted _Natalie Simmons_. Those were his strict, unwavering orders.

"Here, I'll take her. Go help the others. We need to move out soon before the GCPD get here." He spoke as his hand wrapped around the woman's arm. She released a squeak of fright and trembled in his grasp. He glanced at her before returning his gaze to Abul. Abul looked like he wanted to counter back for a moment, but His piercing gaze made him think otherwise.

"Bane wants her." Abul stated, lamely. He nodded.

"I know. And I'll make sure she gets there. Now go help the others."

Abul nodded. "Yes, Barsad."

* * *

_The person who opened the door wasn't exactly what she expected. And judging by his expression, he hadn't been expecting someone like her, as well. Or perhaps he just hadn't expected a woman? After all, it wasn't like she volunteered the information when she called. She could see how he could have misconstrued her call into her looking for an apartment for a brother. Maybe even a guy friend._

_"Hi!" She spoke up, putting on her best smile. She spoke to avoid the inevitable air of awkwardness. She gave an uncertain wave before moving to clasp her hands nervously in front of her. "I'm Natalie! Natalie Simmons. I'm . . . the one who called about the room rental?"_

_The guy nodded and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, okay! I remember your call. Um . . ." He scratched as his neck and looked uncertain for a moment. Eventually, he gave a light laugh and smiled. "Yeah, I'm the one who's renting." He reached out, offering his hand to her. She smiled and shook it. "My name's John Blake. Nice to meet you, Natalie."_

_She continued to smile as they finished shaking hands. He then stepped aside and swept out his arm. "Well, you can come in and look around if you want. It's fairly . . . modernist. I guess you could say."_

_That's an overstatement! She thought in bewilderment as she stepped into the apartment. It was clean and furnished, but it lacked decoration. It lacked what made a home a home. It was clear that it served as the domicile of a single man. It lacked any and all girlish accessories or accoutrements._

_"Yeah." She spoke, nodding, as she turned to face him. "Very . . . modernist, you're right!"_

_He gave a laugh. "Hope that's not a deal-breaker or anything."_

_She shook her head. Answered his laugh with one of her own. "No, it's fine. I don't need much, just a room while I finish college."_

_"Oh, so you're a student!" Blake spoke, his brows rising in interest. Natalie nodded._

_"Yeah, just one semester to go. Gotham U!" She spoke before swallowing hard. "What do you . . . what do you do, Blake?"_

_"Me? Oh, I'm a cop." He spoke, continuing on before he could see the inevitable look of "Oh shit!" that passed over her face. He had become a cop because he wanted to help people. It was only when he became a cop that it truly set in how much people hated them. "They have me on graveyard shift now, which is why I really haven't had a chance to decorate. It's hard to get up the energy to do anything when you're sleeping most of the day and working the rest of the time!"_

_"You don't have a girlfriend to do those things for you?" She asked with a laugh. It surprised her how flirty that laugh sounded to her. Still, though, he was cute, John Blake. For a cop. Tall, good body, thick dark hair, and chocolatey eyes. There could be worse looking guys she could room with, that was for sure! At least this one looked like he cleaned up after himself!_

_He gave another, quieter chuckle. He shook his head. "No." He spoke. "Introduce me to the one woman who has no problem dating a cop and I'll take my shot at her!"_

_The self-deprecating tone of his voice made her pause. An air of awkwardness tried elbowing it's way in but she moved across the room towards an open door. Anything to keep that awkwardness away. She hated awkward silences._

_"Is this the room?" She asked. He nodded and followed her as she made her way towards it. She flipped on the light switch upon entering. It was a sparse room. Freshly painted, as was the whole apartment before he moved in, Blake told her. There was a naked bed shoved into a corner, sheetless. The mattress looked clean, decent. Across the bed was a desk and chair. The floor had a dark green carpet, clean too, by the looks of it. She could certainly do worse. Jesus, she had certainly seen worse before answering Blake's add on Facebook Marketplace!_

_Plus, she figured there could worse roommates than a cop. At least she lived with security._

_Smiling again, she turned to face him. "I'll take it!"_

_"You will?" He spoke, dubiously. She nodded and held out her hand._

_"Totally! Um, when can I move in?"_

_"When do you want to move in?" Blake asked as he took her hand. They shook again. She sent a sheepish look up to him._

_"Um . . . you aren't doing anything, are you? Would today be okay?"_

_Blake's smile softened. "Today would be great. You need help moving?"_

_She moved in that day with Blake's help. The final box on the floor of her rented room in his rented apartment spelled change for them. He was different, she sensed. She was different, Blake sensed. She became his best friend in the entire world -- his first real best friend! He was the guy she would come home and vent to after a stressful day in class. Either at the bar down the street or over bowls of cereal on the couch. Both found pants constricting and entirely unnecessary. So, when it was just the two of them laying around the house, they forgot about the pants. They grew used to seeing each other half naked. They grew used to seeing other people half naked. Most were drunken one-night stands that never went anywhere. Some were the occasional significant other. Those never lasted long, either though. Both inevitable grew intimidated and jealous of the friendship Blake and Natalie held. Neither really cared. They liked being with each other. They would watch football games on the TV or Netflix on the PlayStation together. If they wanted a night out, they went drinking together at the bar. They shopped together for groceries. They did everything together. Or nearly everything._

_He was different, she felt. She was different, Blake felt._

_After no more than five months of living together, things changed between them. Subtly, at first. To the point where they didn't notice. Their drunken conversations on the couch after a night at the bar, abruptly changed. Conversations turned into steamy, drunken make out sessions on the couch. First base turned to second base with startling alacrity. It changed with her shirt shoved up beneath her chin and his mouth on her nipple. Innocent teasing turned into hidden innuendos when the other turned their back. After she let Blake get to third base (this time sober), and he rocked her world with an orgasm, something changed between them._

_Something that scared them._


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> Rape / Assault (Implied but not shown)

* * *

“Hey, you can get _off_ of me . . . like, right the _fuck_ , now!”

Natalie’s teeth grit as she struggled in the strong grip of the man behind her. Beside her, she could sense Marcia doing the same. Kai, though, went along willingly with whatever they asked, too afraid to fight back. When her "handler" didn't answer, she heaved a frustrated sigh. She gave a brief contemplation on stomping on his foot. Or maybe trying to turn around and level a nice knee in the groin. His voice, though, stopped that train of thought.

“I’d be still if I were you, girl.” The deep voice came from behind her. At first, she didn't know who had spoken. Judging by the sudden silence from Marcia, she didn't know either. It took her a moment to realize that it came from the man "handling" her. His grip tightened minutely on her arm. He chuckled. “Bane doesn’t like women who don’t know their place. Women that talk back. That fight back.”

Natalie gave a snort. “Bane? Who the fuck’s Bane? I don’t know him from Adam!”

“Natalie, shut up will you and do what he says!” Kai hissed, her eyes wide with fright. Natalie's frenetic movements ceased as she turned a look of surprise onto Kai. Her eyes swimming, her friend returned her gaze. Natalie gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but Kai didn’t return it. Her "handler" chuckled again as she turned her gaze down onto the floor and remained silent. If it was just her, or her and Marcia, she wouldn't have stopped struggling. But there was something in Kai's gaze that stopped her. Something small and frightened. Something Natalie did not recognize within herself.

They were on an elevator now, going up. They could hear the rumbling of the motor above them as they rose. Before the elevator, they had ridden for miles in one of those military HUMVEES. Outrunning the cops – outrunning _Blake_ , she was sure. Her heart dropped into her stomach as her thoughts once again turned to her boyfriend. Did he know yet? Was he aware that these men had kidnapped his girlfriend, her friend, and his ex-girlfriend? Was he scared – terrified? Or was he calm and confident that they would get them back?

Concerns for Kai disappeared. She couldn't stay silent. She couldn't _not_ fight! Her teeth grit in anger and frustration again. She then yanked herself forward. Her sudden movement must have surprised her "handler", for she slipped free of his grip. She turned around and turned her gaze up at the man who had held her. She caught a flicker of surprise on his face before he replaced it with an expressionless mask. His eyes were a cool, stoic blue. His hair was a short, dark brown hair. His features were lean, aquiline. He had a neat, trimmed beard that matched the color of her hair. For a moment, she stood there, their gazes locked, Natalie without a thought as what to say. She supposed it surprised to see someone _normal_. Was she expecting a monster? A deformed madman? She wasn't sure. In another place, another time, she would have thought the man handsome, attractive. In this time, though, in this place, he was instrumental in the kidnapping of her and her friends. He was part of the group who blew up and robbed the bank her and Kai worked for. He wasn't attractive! He was a terrorist!

She then balked, hung up on one of her thoughts. When in the hell had she started considering Marcia a _friend_?

“Where . . . are you _taking us_?” She asked, knowing she needed to say _something_. She forced her tone into one of cool and calm. She saw a look of amusement spear through the man’s eyes. He glanced at his two compatriots, who smiled in amusement, as well. Ignoring her, he spoke something to them in Arabic. They chuckled and nodded. One laughed and elbowed the other before replying in Arabic, as well. The three men then lapsed into silence. Her "handler" moved to wrap his hand around her arm again. He levelled his gaze back onto her.

“You will see soon enough, pretty one.” He spoke, his voice low. There was a warning to his words that Natalie couldn’t help but recoil away from. His words caused her heart to pick up a faster beat in her chest. Her flesh erupted in goosebumps. She allowed the man to direct her attention back onto the stainless-steel doors of the elevator. His grip around her arm was cautiously firm but still gentle. Almost as if he expected her to break free again, yet he didn't want to cause her discomfort. The two warring grips boggled her mind.

A cheerful ‘ding’ chimed through the elevator when they finally reached their floor and came to a stop. Natalie’s eyes flickered up to the panel above the doors where the floor numbers shone yellow. It surprised her to see they were all the way at the top. The building itself showed fourteen floors. Were they at a condo? A hotel? They proved her suspicions correct when the man closest to the floor panel took out a key and placed it in the lock. Upon turning it there was another ding and the door slid open. They led Marcia and Kai out first but her "handler" held her back. His voice lowered.

“This is to be your new home now, pretty one. Not theirs -- _yours_. And may I offer a word of advice before we go in? You would wise to curb that tongue of yours. Otherwise, you might find it ripped out.” His voice when he spoke was disturbingly calm. Despite that, his words sent Natalie's thoughts spinning into a whirling frenzy. Myriad thoughts ran through her head. _Why_ she was there? _Who_ had given the orders for them to kidnap her? Furthermore, why the _hell_ had he told her that this place was her new home? She _had_ a home – it was with Blake – she didn’t want this one!

What the _fuck_ was going on here?!

The man moved her forward with a gentle pressure on her arm. She went willingly enough. Despite her legs shaking like they had suddenly filled with jelly. By the time they reached the others, she found herself leaning on the man far more than she would have liked. He stayed silent, though, and allowed her to lean on him.

Kai and Marcia were standing in the middle of what looked like a living room. Their two captors remained silent and hulking behind them. Kai's eyes still swam with tears. She looked whiter than curdled milk. The brevity of their situation finally seemed to be occurring to Marcia, as well. Their gazes connected briefly, a heavy, uncertain silence hanging between them. Natalie tried to share a smile with the two women, but it wouldn’t appear on her face. She was afraid she was running dangerously out of hope or logical reasoning. She was just too uncertain of what was happening. Of where they were. Of what would soon happen to _them_.

Her "handler" forced her to a stop from pressure on her arm. They stood there in silence that Marcia’s "handler" broke only once by asking something in Arabic. The brows of Natalie’s "handler" furrowed in irritation at his question. Irritation lacing his voice, he barked a reply. The two men looked sufficiently cowed enough afterwards to say nothing further. Thus, they plunged them into another lengthy silence.

They stood there for what seemed like hours. In reality, it was most likely only twenty or thirty minutes. The silence between them made it seem longer than it actually was. The excruciatingly long wait made the fear run hot and thick through their veins. When they heard the elevator come to a stop, even Natalie, who had been trying so hard to be strong, had tears in her eyes.

The doors slid open and the sound of heavy boots approaching greeted them. When the man came into view, Natalie immediately felt a hot ball of lead drop down into her stomach. It was the same man from the bank – the one built like a bull and with the metal headcrab-like mask attached to his face. He had a man trotting alongside him, speaking quietly in Arabic. There was a panicked look to his face. This look of panic did not translate to the man with the mask. He seemed to be either ignoring his subordinate or not deigning to speak as he listened. When he caught sight of her, he came to a sudden stop. The man trotting alongside him had no choice but to stop, as well. His brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of them. He glanced back and forth between Bane and Natalie before tentatively speaking. Her "handler" snapped at him, his words ending with a sneer. A look of outrage appeared on the other man's face. He took a step towards him and the two men started arguing. She caught the name "Abul" flying from her "Handler's" mouth while the other guy scoffed and raised his voice. There were many gesticulations made towards Natalie, Marcia, and Kai. The entire time, she found her gaze locked with the minotaur in front of her. For a moment, she felt so insecure in her own body – almost suffocated. It felt like he was taking her out of her own skin and studying what she looked like underneath. Figuring out what made her tick, what made her afraid – what she loved. His gaze felt invasive and unsettling.

When he spoke, his voice sounded almost mechanical coming through the mask. There was a note of amusement in it. “Barsad, my friend.” He spoke, and immediately, the arguing came to a stop. Her "handler" nodded. There was a small smile on his face.

“Yes, Bane?”

“Don’t you think it is a little rude to be using a language that not everyone here is privy to?”

The two men stood there and gaped at him for a moment. Eventually, Bane's companion from the elevator averted his gaze to the ground. It was clearly a submissive gesture. Behind her, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Barsad sneer. “Forgive me, Bane." He spoke, his voice trembling. "It was callous of me.”

Barsad nodded in agreement. “Forgive me, as well." He glanced down at her. "I should have known better.”

“Yes, you should have. But no matter – it cannot be helped now.” Bane spoke before taking a step closer to Natalie. Barsad released her upon this step. He moved away from her to stand behind his leader. Natalie swallowed hard but forced herself to stand her ground. She caught a flicker of respect in Bane’s eyes upon seeing her little show of defiance. “It is okay, little one. You have every right to be afraid of me. In fact . . . you _should_ be afraid of me. _Very_ afraid.” He turned around and gestured to the surrounding space. “Tell me: what do you think of your new home? I spent quite a considerable amount of time acquiring it for you.”

Natalie’s gaze flew around the space surrounding them. She had been so nervous upon first entering that this was the first time she was _truly_ seeing it. Her eyebrows rose upon taking in the bright, yellow painted walls with the wood siding. She took in the beautiful cherrywood floors and the tall windows that allowed in so much light. It bounced off the walls and cast everything in life, and light, and flame. The furniture was beautiful -- all warm colors and dark woods and leathers. A brick fireplace sat against the far wall with a plasma TV mounted above it. Three doors branched off from the main room. Most likely to the kitchen, a bedroom, and maybe a bathroom, study, or second bedroom. It was a very gorgeous space and looked quite a bit like . . . her apartment with Blake.

Natalie’s brows furrowed in confusion. Everything around her suddenly looked _too_ familiar. None of this should be there. S _he_ should not be there! A spike of fear shot through her heart. “Have you . . . been stalking me?”

Bane gave a laugh instead of a response. “I don’t call it ‘stalking’ when I have those I have claimed shadowed by one of my men for your own protection. But yes, to answer your question, I do know where you live. I know what the inside of your apartment looks like, for I needed to, you understand? I wished to give you a place where you would be more comfortable. A place whose decorations' sole function was to soothe you." He held out his hands. "I chose this place. It resembles how you have decorated your own apartment but is luxurious enough to suit _my_ tastes for you. This is where you are meant to be, Natalie. You are meant to be treated like a queen – _my_ queen!"

Natalie’s eyes widened. Her hands flew up in front of her and she took a step backwards, _away_ from him. She could see the looks of blind terror on Kai and Marcia’s faces out of the corner of her eye. She refrained from looking at them, though. While his attentions were on her, they were fine. Even if it _was_ delaying the inevitable.

Another thought hit her, then. If Bane knew what her apartment looked like, then it was safe to assume he knew everything about her. He knew where she worked, or how else would he have known to kidnap her there? He was aware of her relationship with Blake. He probably knew about Billy and Gam Gam. He more than likely even knew that Billy was an inmate in Blackgate. And that Gam Gam was in a retirement home on the outskirts of Gotham. He had walked the halls of a life that she had thought personal – where only those she invited could walk with her. Those strong, deadly hands hand run over her things. Over her furniture, her bookshelves. Those piercing eyes had gazed upon the pictures of her and Blake in their glass frames that hung on her walls. He has touched the jersey sheets of the bed she shared with Blake. They've been on her clothes – her _life_! And _when_ had he actually been in her apartment, for that matter? Had he been careful to only enter it when they were gone, or had he . . . had he been bolder? Had he moved through the hallways when he knew they would both be asleep? While knowing they were completely unaware of the danger that lurked in the shadows. Had he bore witness to her and Blake’s shows of affection? Had he seen their teasing, their laughter -- their smiles and their lovemaking? Had he lay witness to all that, or none at all?

This man was _insane --_ he had to be! The thought made her almost light-headed with fright. For a moment she thought she had vertigo. Oh, _what_ had situation had she found herself in?

“Okay, uh, look, I don’t know who you are, but _this_ is crazy!” She spoke, as she quickly – almost in a panic – gestured to the space around them. Her heart slammed in her throat. Tears filled her vision, but she blinked them back before they could see them. Her head throbbed – she was developing a headache. Her voice tightened for a moment as she shook her head. Her eyes widened and adopted a pleading look. All she wanted was to go home. She wanted to go home, pop in a movie, curl up on the couch, and wait for Blake to get home. Then, when he _did_ get home, she wanted to pop in another movie and curl up on the couch with _him_! Maybe with pizza or Chinese takeout. She didn’t want to _be_ there – she didn’t . . .!

She _wanted Blake_!

She shook her head. Her voice clawed its way, strangled, from her throat. “Please . . . I’m _not_ your queen!”

Another look of amusement appeared in Bane’s gaze. He chuckled and approached her. He placed a strong hand on the small of her back. She felt the warm flesh of his hand through her shirt and shuddered as she allowed him to move her forward. It felt like moving through quicksand, sucking her down with every movement. Her gaze locked with the expressionless Barsad. _Something_ seemed to pass between them, yet he did not speak. She closed her eyes as Bane turned her. She allowed him to steer her in front of Marcia and Kai. “Oh, but you _are_ , little one!" His voice transformed, becoming crooning and intimate. "You will rule over the crumbling ruins of this city beside me! The rabble will worship you! And this -- _this --_ will be your palace!” His words terrified her. She bit down on her bottom lip to conceal the emotion as he continued. “And a queen also needs her court, does she not? So, you may choose one. _Only_. One.”

Natalie swallowed hard and opened her eyes. She stood before two very frightened women. One had tearful eyes full of pleading. One she had known for years -- had been best friends with for longer. The other gazed at her wide eyes but with a strength that surprised her. One that she had never possessed any love for. So, it was to Kai’s tearful, pleading face that she looked towards. Bane chuckled again. He directed his words to the two men standing behind them. “You may do what you want with them but keep this one – the timid one -- alive. Kill the other when you’ve had your fill of them. Barsad, show the little queen to her bedroom. I have an appointment to keep.”

The room sprang into chaotic motion. Marcia and Kai began struggling for their very lives in the hands of their captors. The two men leered down at them as they closed in. Two more men entered the room as well, hands empty of guns but pistols strapped in holsters to their sides. These were grinning, too. It took a moment, but eventually, it occurred to them what was going to happen. Natalie's eyes widened in horror. She shook her head and jumped forward. She reached her arms out to Kai who screamed her name and reached out, as well. They were so close! All she had to do was reach them --!

“No!" She heard her command, hoping they would listen to their newly designated "Queen". "No, you can’t do this! Stop! I _order you_ to stop!”

They ignored her and Barsad took that as his queue to follow orders. He stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, and yanked her backwards. Struggling against him was like struggling against a mountain. He was too strong. In the end, she had no choice but to allow him to pull her further back into the depths of the apartment. She continued to struggle the entire time, though, much to his irritation. “Kai – Kai, sweetie, I’m-I’m sorry – _Bane_! Bane, don’t you _dare_ allow this!” She screamed, but the bull man ignored her as he made his way back to the elevator. Her teeth grit in anger. Her eyes filled with furious tears. She could only stand there and watch as the four men grouped around the two frightened women. Barsad reached the double doors quickly, even _with_ her kicking and screaming. Even _with_ her trying her damndest to get out of his grip.

He wrapped a strong arm around her waist while he reached a fumbling grasp behind him. Upon wrapping a hand around the doorknob, he threw one of the doors open. With a grunt, he threw her inside and darted in behind her. He managed to close and lock the door right when she regained her balance and lunged for him. Turning around, he caught the tearful, sobbing woman right when her fists flew and beat at his chest.

“Let me go – let me _go,_ you _fucking bastard_ \--!”

“Stop! St-Stop it – _fucking_ stop it!” Barsad barked before he finally managed to wrap his hands around her wrists. With this small handhold, he managed to keep her in one place. Turning tear-stained eyes up him, his lips pursed and his teeth grit. “You go out there and the same things that those men are doing to those women, will happen to you, too. And I _won’t_ be able to stop them like Bane could. In fact, if you _do_ go out there, then don’t expect Bane to help. Quite the contrary, he’ll think he should reward you for such stupidity!”

“So, what am I supposed to do, then? Huh?” She hissed. Her expression was full of hatred that he would even _suggest_ such a thing. “Am I supposed to sit here and _listen_ to those men rape and beat them? One of them is my _friend_ – my _best friend_! The other . . ." She paused and her lips thinned. She shook her head. "We’ve never exactly gotten along, but that still doesn’t mean I would wish that kind of hell on her!”

Barsad’s jaw hardened. “You think I agree with what they are doing out there? You think if I wasn’t in here making sure you didn’t do something stupid, that I’d be out there too?” He gave a sharp, bitter laugh and a shake of his head. “For your information, _princess_ , I don’t! And Bane doesn’t believe in rape, either, as _shocking_ as that might be to you right now. But he’s also smart and he knows that with the kind of men he’s forced to deal with on a regular basis, sometimes . . . sometimes, he should ignore certain things.”

Natalie gazed up at him for a moment before yanking herself free of him. He allowed her to go with a wary eye and a tense posture. Almost like he was waiting for her to try to lunge past him. He shouldn't have bothered. Upon turning around, she moved over to the bed, where she took a seat. She shifted on it with her back planted against the wooden headboard. She tucked her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. She could hear sobs and pleads for mercy through the bedroom doors. She gave a sharp, bitter laugh that accompanied the shaking of her head. “He told me he chose this apartment because it would be comforting to me. How does he expect it to comfort me now? Every time I walk through those doors, all I will see is my best friend gangraped in the middle of the living room!”

Barsad shook his head. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. He moved to lean against the wall across from her. His voice was quiet when he spoke. “They should be leaving any moment now. The deeds won’t actually happen here.”

She gave another sharp laugh. “And that’s supposed to make it better? That's supposed to make me _feel_ better?”

He gave a shrug. His eyes were impassive as they bored into hers. “If it did, pretty one, I wouldn't respect you.”

He felt silent and neither felt like breaking that silence. She sat on the bed for a long time. Until the sun began to sink below the horizon. After an interminable time, Barsad left his vigil by the door. Instead, he moved to take a seat in a nearby armchair. Rubbing his hands together, he hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. She watched him before swallowing hard. “So, uh . . . what made you loop yourself in with Bane?” She asked. Barsad chuckled. He wore an amused smile as he looked at her.

“Is this coming from the woman who doesn’t even know Bane from Adam?” He asked, and she looked away. Heat enflamed her face.

“Well, you have to see it from my point of view. How he said I was his ‘queen’, and that I would ‘rule the crumbling ruins of the city alongside him’ . . . that doesn't exactly sound like a sane man, does it? I also assumed from the sheer size of him that’s he’s very dangerous. Judging by the number of men on his payroll, I can also assume his words carry weight. He's intelligent -- has to be if he seeks to exert control. On the flipside, too. He did, after all, bring down a major bank without and wasn't caught. So, I repeat the question: why are you with him?”

Barsad shook his head. “Because he isn’t crazy. In fact . . . he’s probably the sanest man I’ve ever met.”

Natalie shook her head in bewilderment. “How can you --?”

“Even the most insane man always has a method to his madness. Didn't Carroll say that? What is evil in a world where Hitler, Saddam, and every violent dictator, thought they were doing good? What is . . . _insanity_ when the insane man thinks himself sane? Are they even real, in such a world as this one?”

She gave a small smile. “Dostoyevsky.” She spoke. Barsad nodded, a look of respect entering his eyes.

“Very good. You know others?”

She nodded. “Sun Tzu, Marx, Hobbes, Socrates, Sartre – the classics as well as modern day.”

He nodded and leaned back. “Good. Bane will like you more if you can hold intelligent conversation. He detests those who are ignorant.”

She could only sit there and give a feeble nod. “So, I am . . ." She paused and drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. "This is all real, then?”

Barsad nodded. His voice when he spoke was gentle. Almost kind. “Aye. It is very much real, pretty one.”

They stayed silent for a moment before he rose to his feet. The noises beyond the door in the living room had long died down. “They have left, it seems. Good – I’d hate to see what would have happened if Bane returned and they weren’t.” He glanced at her. He paused, appearing deep in thought. Almost uncertain. Like he warred with himself on whether to say something further. “You should take a shower and rest. I daresay you’ll have quite the day tomorrow." She nodded and he moved for the door. “Excuse me. I need to wait for Bane’s return.”

“Barsad, wait!”

He stiffened upon her words reaching him. After a moment, he turned around. His expression was hard but a little hesitant when their gazes locked. She gave him a small smile. “Thank you.” She spoke, not quite sure what she is thanking him for. Quite obviously, he didn't either. He hesitated a little more before finally answering her.

“Don’t be – not yet. I was the one he sent to scope out your apartment.”


	5. Chapter Five

* * *

It had been a long day. By the time Commissioner James Gordon finally managed to pull his ass out of the office, he felt beat. Beat completely black and blue, he felt. They had dimmed the lights of the station that night, both for night shift and to save on the electric bill. He locked the door to his office in this dim light and headed down the stairs to the bull pen. He made his way to the front doors but stopped. The pen was full of those assigned the graveyard shift, as well as those strange birds who asked for it. Yet, he stopped because he saw something out of the norm. Something that made his heart squeeze and his gut tighten. He heaved a sigh.

“Blake! Why the hell are you still here? You _have_ to go home!”

His voice rang out around the pen. None of the others stopped to watch. They had learned better than that right quick when Gordan became commissioner.

Gordon saw Blake shake his head upon hearing him. He was leaning on his elbows on his desk. As Gordon approached, Blake ran his fingers through his hair. “I would, but I can’t, sir. Natalie’s still out there and I’m not going to rest until I find her and make sure she’s safe!” He spoke, voice husky with lack of sleep. There was a firmness to his tone, though. A certain resolute stubbornness that Gordon admired. Still, though, he rolled his eyes. Shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other.

“Word to the wise, rookie? You’re not gonna find her when you’re about to collapse from exhaustion. Go home and get some rest. I mean it." He heaved a sigh and looked around. The emptiness of the station was almost eerie. The station was _never_ this empty!

So much for going home and getting some sleep, though. Blake was lucky he liked him. That he liked _Natalie_.

"Look, tell you what, son: I’ll keep working the case while you're gone. If anything new pops up, you’ll be the first to know, I promise.” He placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Blake continued to sit there for a minute, though. He had been up for a day and a half now, worried sick about Natalie – where she was, what was happening to her . . . if she was alive or dead. The very thought sickened him to his stomach. He had eaten little for that day and a half, too – just a greasy burger from the nearby diner. After that, he hadn’t been able to keep anything down. He had too much on his plate -- on his mind. He knew he should go see Gam Gam. He should probably write to Billy but couldn’t help but think of what the point would be. Billy would be useless sitting in Blackgate the way he was, and Gam Gam . . . who _knew_ how much of a setback this would be for her! Then, there was the issue of her nursing home bills that were due at the beginning of the upcoming month . . . how could he do _any_ of this without her?

He heard Gordon heave a sigh as he withdrew his hand. He shoved it into his pocket. “We’ll find her, Blake, I promise! Natalie’s a strong one – she’ll be fine!”

Blake shook his head before turning to look up at him. His red-rimmed eyes, from a combination of tears and lack of sleep, made Gordon feel bad for the guy. He remembered the last time Barbara and his family were threatened . . . how relieved he was when the Joker was finally dealt with and everyone was safe. He wouldn't wish that agony and uncertainty on anyone. Especially the rookie cop Gordon had a soft spot for.

“How do you know that, Gordon? How can you _promise_ me something like that? We don’t know who hit the bank yet, just that there were a lot of them. We don’t know what they wanted -- where they took her and Kai! As of right now, we have _nothing_ to go on and yet you can stand there and promise me that we’ll find her!” The words settled like a lead weight between them, followed by an awkward silence. After a moment of letting it linger, Blake released a tired laugh and shook his head. He rose to his feet. His fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fuck . . . I’m sorry, Gordon. I shouldn’t have jumped like that." There was another, briefer, silence, as Blake focused on pulling himself together. "I’ll go home, okay? I'll . . . try to get some sleep. You're right -- I need it.”

Gordon nodded. He sent him a small smile. “Think nothing of it, kid. I know where your head's at right now -- I've been there myself. I know it ain't pretty. I expect some outbursts from you." He shrugged. "No one here blames you, John. Unknown perps kidnap your girlfriend and her best friend. They left no clues on where they took them. We have no idea what has happened to them – if they're safe. It’s expected for you to be on edge. No one here will begrudge you that.”

Blake shook his head as he flipped off his desk light. He then pulled on his jacket. “No, that’s not . . .!" He sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes. "Look, can I level with you, Gordon?” He asked, and Gordon nodded.

“Of course! What's on your mind?”

The tip of Blake's tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked deep in thought. Uncertain, almost. As if he was debating on speaking what was on his mind. “I don’t . . . I’m worried about Kai – of course I am! But I’d . . . I’d let whoever has them _keep_ her, if I meant I could get Natalie back and have her in my arms again tonight.” He swallowed hard. Looked on the verge of tears again. “Do you know how that makes me feel? Gordon, I feel like shit for even _thinking_ that, but there it is, all the same.” Gordon kept his silence, not knowing what to say. How to put into words how _much_ he understood. Finally, Blake broke it by shooting him a tight smile. “I’m going home. Call me if anything new comes up?”

Gordon nodded and returned his smile with one of his own. “Yes, yes, of course! Have a nice night.” Blake gave him another tight smile as he shoved his phone and wallet into his pockets. He then turned around and headed for the front entranceway. He managed to fish his keys out of his pocket as he moved.

While stopped at the curb and attempted to hail a cab. The ones that passed were content to ignore him. They passed him by, speeding, as cabs were wont to do. After the third miss, Blake released a groan and rubbed his face with his hands. It took every ounce of his control to keep exhaustion from filling his limbs. He was hungry (even though it’d be useless to eat, he knew. He’d just throw it all up again) and he was quickly growing irritable _and_ a headache. He needed to get home and get some sleep. Gordon was right – he couldn’t find Natalie while running on fumes.

“Hey, need a ride?”

Blake heaved another sigh and turned around. He expected to find a fellow officer off shift and heading home, too. It shocked him, though, to find none other than Bruce Wayne parked on the curb beside him. There was a small, almost amused smile on his handsome, angular face. After a moment of fighting to pick his jaw up off the floor, Blake gave a jerky nod. “I, uh . . . don’t wanna put you out of your way.” He spoke, before quickly adding: "Mr. Wayne. Sir."

Wayne shook his head and chuckled. “Don't worry, you won’t be putting me out of my way. Funny thing, actually: I’ve recently found out that I have all the time in the world! You also look exhausted, and I happen to owe Gordon a few favors, so . . .!” He gave a shrug and another smile. “Hop on in. Blake, right?”

Blake's brows furrowed in confusion as he nodded. The car door swung open. There was a moment of brief hesitation before he ducked into the dim space. Upon sliding into the cushy leather seat, he pulled the door closed behind him. “Uh, yeah, right. It’s Blake – John Blake. How’d you know?”

Wayne gave another chuckle. “Gordon talks about you a lot. He seems to have developed a soft spot for you. That, or you have a lot of potential. Maybe a little of both.” He replied, and Blake nodded as Wayne’s chauffer pulled away from the curb and into traffic. “Where to?”

“Oh, I’m sorry – 514 South Talladega Street. Home.”

Wayne nodded. Shot him a look of sympathy. “Haven’t slept in a few days, huh? Man, you look exhausted!”

Blake nodded in agreement. “That’s ‘cause I am. Sir. My girlfriend, Natalie, she, uh . . . well, you’ve no doubt heard of the bank robbery yesterday, right?” Wayne gave another nod. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were piercing. Blake felt almost like he was being studied for a moment. Held under a microscope beneath a slide of glass. He shifted in discomfort as he continued. “Yeah, well, she was working her shift there that day -- she's a bank teller -- and the robbers ended up taking her. Her best friend was, too, but Natalie . . ." He shook his head as his heart squeezed painfully. "Natalie’s all I really kinda care about.”

Wayne gave another nod. This time, it was slow. Almost thoughtful. “I understand. I’m sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through right now.”

Blake gave a shrug. It had surprised him, how tired all the sympathetic courtesies became. “Thanks. Though I don’t exactly know what apologies are gonna do. Natalie’s a strong chick -- I’m sure she’s fine, but . . .!" He shook his head. "All the same, we have no leads. It’s a blind shot in the dark on where she and Kai are. They could be anywhere in Gotham right now. If they're even _in_ Gotham!”

Wayne gave a shrug. Glanced out the tinted window to the zipping scenery outside. “Oh, I don’t know . . . I have a few strings I can pull. Maybe I can dig up something for you?” He suggested. Blake gave a grin and laugh.

“Unless those strings lead to Batman, then don’t bother, sir! Everything we’ve tried so far has led to nothing!”

Wayne adopted a small, amused smile. “Batman’s been gone for eight years now, and still, people long for his return. Is he really that needed now?”

Blake shook his head. “You misunderstand. It wasn’t _him_ , per say. Batman was a . . . a _symbol_ – something to hope for in the dark! The way I grew up, every single one of us wanted to be Batman. We’d play Batman and Robbers, and . . .” He gave a laugh and another shake of his head. “You know what? Forget about it. It’s nothing.”

Wayne's smile broadened. “There were a lot of you, I take it?”

“I’d say! Growing up in an orphanage, there’s always a lot of you.”

“And what about your girlfriend? Natalie, is it? What was her childhood like?”

Blake glanced at him. He was far too tired to wonder if anything was odd about Bruce Wayne asking about their childhoods. Later, he would. Then, though . . . desire for sleep clouded his mind. His judgement.

“Her parents died when she was young. Car crash. Her and her brother went to live with her grandmother, and she raised them.”

Wayne's smile softened. “Two orphans who fell in love with each other despite it all. Now, what are the odds of that happening?”

Blake glanced at him. His brows rose. “In Gotham? I’d say pretty high. And something tells me it’s about to get a little bit higher.”

* * *

There was a reason Blake had avoided going home once he learned what had happened. Everything would remain as they had left it the morning they both left for work. Natalie’s make-up and hairbrush would remain scattered along the bathroom countertop. Her clothes that she had taken out and judged worthy of wearing that day on something else, would be on their bed. Unmade, because neither ever felt like making it up. Or they deluded themselves into thinking they wouldn't have the time. Mainly, they never made the bed up because they both knew it wouldn't stay that way for long. Both had a strange urge to immediately mess up a made bed. Or maybe it was something about sullying something clean? Blake didn't know and was too exhausted to dissect their psychological quirks.

Their coffee cups would still be in the dish strainer, he knew. The coffeepot half full of cold, leftover coffee. Their bed . . .!

He closed his eyes tight at the thought. Fought the urge to bury the heels of his hands into his eyes till he saw stars. They had made love in that bed the morning they went to work – the morning they took her. Their bed would, most likely, still smell of them – smell of _her_!

The thought made him feel sick. Bile rose in his throat, but he managed to tamp it down.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Stepping into the warm apartment, he heaved a sigh. He closed the door behind him before tossing his backpack on the nearby armchair. His gaze ran over everything that surrounded him. He threw a cursory glance at the paintings, the furniture, the TV. He crossed the room. He pulled his phone, wallet and keys out of his coat pockets. He then plopped them onto the glass coffee table. He then shrugged out of his coat and threw it on the couch before moving down the hallway to their bedroom. He avoided gazing at the pictures that hung on the walls – the pictures of them. Already, he was thinking of her like she was dead, never to return, and he knew he couldn’t think like that. She was alive, he knew she was alive – he would have _felt_ it if she died! But the pictures . . . he couldn't take them. Them smiling and laughing in a happier time . . . the sight threatened to knock him straight down into a hole of depression he did _not_ want to fall into.

Besides, he was only there to sleep – that was all. He wasn’t there to linger. Sleep, shit, shower, eat, and maybe shave. After that, he would return to the precinct. He had to. He couldn't afford to let them leave him out of the loop. Despite Gordon's assurances that he would let him know if they learned anything.

He stepped into the bathroom and saw her things scattered across the countertop. Smiling, he stripped before turning on the shower. After regulating the heat to where he wanted, he hopped underneath the warm spray. He stood there under the water and allowed it to run rivulets down his body as he adjusted it to a hotter level. When he felt satisfied, he ran a hand over his face and stepped back. He allowed his head to fall back against his shoulders, his eyes closing. The water ran down his front as he stood there and allowed himself to think. He ruminated on the case, the scant clues they had. When it grew too frustrating, he moved on to other things. Natalie, fond memories, not-so-fond memories. Anything, really, to keep his mind occupied. To keep himself thinking of her.

He hadn’t meant to descend so deep into his thoughts. By the time his thoughts had exhausted himself, the spray had long grown cold.

Shivering, he quickly finished his shower. When he finished, he cut off the water and stepped out. Dripping puddles onto the floor, he padded out of the bathroom. He didn't bother to towel himself off (something that Natalie would have flipped her lid over). He moved sluggishly to the bed. He collapsed, naked, to the soft surface. He closed his eyes and lay there for a moment, trying to drift off to sleep, yet something kept him back.

Rolling over, he lay there and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before getting back to his feet. He grabbed up his pillow and the comforter from the bed and moved into the living room. He plopped the things down onto the couch with a sigh. He couldn’t sleep in there – couldn’t sleep in their _bed_. It smelled too much like her. It proved too much of a distraction to his already exhausted, overworked brain. So he plopped down onto the couch and tried the same. He closed his eyes and felt him drift off a little easier. Still, something kept him back from succumbing to sleep for a good while.

 _Fuck . . .!_ He thought, miserably. _Even the_ couch _smells like her!_  
  


* * *

He must have fallen asleep (the time of which, eluded him), for he awoke later by his phone ringing. Groaning in irritation, he flipped over onto his side. He worked his arm out from underneath the blanket covering him, cursing every second. Once he had fallen asleep, he had _slept_. The kind of deep sleep that only came to those exhausted. His hand blindly searched for his phone among the clutter of the coffee table. When he finally found it, he swiped across the screen and pressed it to his ear.

“Yeah? Wassup . . .?”

“Good. You got some sleep after all!” Gordon chirped, much too cheerful for Blake at that moment. He nodded as he ground the heel of one hand into his right eye. His stomach growled. It surprised him to find himself hungry. Famished, in fact. Maybe all he really did need was some damn sleep.

“Yeah, and it was amazing, too. Kinda wish you would have given me a few more hours. Now why the hell’d you wake me up?”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news.” Gordon heaved with a sigh. Blake gave his own sigh as he closed his eyes and willed the sleepiness away.

“What’s the good news?”

“Well, we know who took Natalie.”

All tinges of sleepiness disappeared. Blake shot up, eyes wide and mind racing. They knew where she was, which meant they could get her back . . . _right_?

“That’s great, Gordon! I’ll . . . get dressed and come down to the station --!”

“Well, see, that’s where the bad news comes in.” He spoke, an apologetic tone to his voice that Blake did not like _at all_. “You sitting down for this, son?”

Blake resisted the urge to get up. To rail and scream for him to hurry up and spill it. When he eventually spoke, his voice was much more level that he had thought. Way more adult instead of the kid he thought he'd be. “Yeah, yeah, just . . . _who_ took her, Gordon?”

There was silence and when Gordon finally spoke his name, an icy cold finger of dread ran down Blake’s spine. “I’m sorry, John. It was Bane.”

* * *

_Natalie didn't know how they had reached that point. That ugly, dark point. She hated the way they stood on opposite sides of the kitchen from one another. How the two of them formed opposing sides with a jagged, nasty crevasse separating them. She opened her mouth to speak, and Blake sent her an upturned brow of interest, before she closed it. What could she say to make things better? To heal the rift between them_ she _had caused?_

_"I'm sorry." She spoke, quietly. The words fell between them like a lame duck. They seemed so terribly inept. Like someone apologizing for a gunshot wound._

_Blake didn't answer her. He stood there in the corner between them dishwasher and the microwave. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest, his head bowed. His body language screamed of his anger and frustration._

_After a moment, his head rose. His gaze met hers. He shrugged. "I . . . don't accept your apology? I think I'm fucking entitled to that." She gave an enthusiastic nod. She was completely okay taking on any chastisement he was willing to give her. As long as it made things better. He saw this eagerness and frowned. He shook his head. "Don't do that, Natalie. Don't you_ fucking _do it!" She recoiled. Nodding, she turned her gaze down onto the floor beneath their feet. Blake rubbed his face with his hands. He released a loud, frustrated groan. When he finished and felt he had collected his thoughts enough, he returned his arms across his chest. "So. Why did you do it?"_

 _Why_ did _she do it? Why did she think such a completely childish maneuver would impress him? Was she_ that _desperate for his approval? Or was it something different? Something she didn't feel comfortable articulating to him at the moment. Not when he was so angry with her._

_"I was jealous. I guess." She spoke, those words sounding lame even to her ears. Blake's brows rose higher._

_"You . . . were jealous?" She nodded. He shook his head. Released a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You . . ._ threatened _to beat the shit out of a girl . . . because you were_ jealous _?" He shook his head. "Nat, we weren't even talking about hooking up!"_

_Natalie's hands rose and she nodded. "I know! I know, I know -- I realize that now. I . . . I think, maybe, that was the rum talking? When I threatened her, I mean."_

_Blake released another breathless laugh and nodded. "You fucking_ think _? Natalie, that shit wasn't cool, okay? You could have seriously hurt her and goddamn, I think you were_ about to _if Teddy didn't pull you away --!"_

_"Look, I know I fucked up, okay!" She spoke, her voice rising with her own frustration. "That wasn't cool, I know! I'm super, super sorry about it! I just . . ." She threw her hands up in frustration. "I remember seeing you two talking at the bar and you . . . looked like you were having a super good time, and, I don't know, I . . .!" She shook her head and sighed. Her fingers ran through her hair. "I got jealous. That you were having that good of a time with her instead of me. Then I got to thinking that you might would want to go home with her. That you would be with another woman for once instead of coming home with me. Where, you know, we would make out like drunk monkeys on the couch!"_

_She had intended for him to take her last sentence as a joke. She had even spoken it on a tone that_ suggested _a joke. Yet, Blake shook his head, a stunned expression on his face. That stunned look eventually gave way to one of realization. The last time they had made out while drunk had been different. On a whim -- a stupid fucking whim -- he didn't cut it off when he should have. At the usual spot he did. Instead of stopping when the urge to rip her clothes off her hit, he allowed himself to go a little further. She had been wearing that frustratingly attractive green silk miniskirt all night. The one that had sent his mind whirling like a hurricane. Her panties had been lacy and delicate. He knew that because he had allowed himself to slip a hand between her legs when they were making out. It hadn't been hard to get her off. So he did, again and again, until she was begging him to stop. He remembered it being so hot the way she responded to him . . .!_

 _He should have known it would have meant something to her. Because, of fucking_ course, _it would have meant something to her!_

_After all, it had meant something to him._

_His hand moved to cover his mouth. He gazed at her, dumbfounded, for a moment. "Are you telling me . . .?" He spoke, quietly. "You were jealous because . . .?" He didn't finish. Saying the words "drunk making out" seemed so corny! So childish! They were adults, not fucking teenagers! How hard was it for them to talk about their feelings?_

_Very fucking hard, apparently._

_"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" She spoke, before he could. She shook her head, her cheeks burning. "It won't happen again. I promise! No more jealous Natalie!" She sent him a small, hopeful smile. "Can we table this for now? I'm really, really tired. I want to get some sleep."_

_Blake had so many questions. He had so much to say. Yet, he found himself nodding in agreement. "Yeah." He admitted. "Yeah, I think some sleep will do us both some good."_

_She left the kitchen then. Quickly. Like her ass was on fire. She left him there in an awkward air. Blake, for the life of him, not knowing how the hell to fix things._


End file.
